Not With a Whimper
by Snow Duchess
Summary: COMPLETE! Following Sins of the Past, betrayal forces Celes to question everything, while the cryptic secrets of her fate begin to unravel. Accepting who she is, though, could have tragic consequences...
1. Not a Whimper

Not With a Whimper

_Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy in any way, shape, or form._

_Ok, time to give the rundown of everything. This is the continuation of_ Sins of the Past_, so I strongly recommend reading that first if you haven't already. The Locke/Celes pairing will eventually surface, however, it will not be the focus of the story. As this is centered around Celes, I will be making some significant changes or additions to some events of the game. Following the tone of _Sins_, this is a darker, more tragic portrayal of Celes' character, her struggles with herself, and how she comes to terms with her fate. _

**CONTENT WARNING: This chapter is rated M (Mature) for adult material involving rape and brief coarse language. Although it is not very explicit, reader discretion is advised. The rest of this work will be rated T for periodic violence and language.**

((ooo))

_Between the idea and the reality  
Between the motion and the act  
Falls the Shadow_

_Between the conception and the creation  
Between the emotion and the response  
Falls the Shadow_

_Between the desire and the spasm  
Between the potency and the existence  
Between the essence and the descent  
Falls the Shadow_

_This is the way the world ends  
This is the way the world ends  
This is the way the world ends  
Not with a bang but a whimper_

_Excerpt from "The Hollow Men" by T. S. Eliot_

((ooo))

Chapter One: Not a Whimper

_I vowed to serve you till death, and till death I will serve._

_You have yet to fulfill your purpose._

_My duty is to the Empire. I shall never betray nor abandon it._

_You, Child, possess a gift handed down by the divine Goddesses. You are the last descendant of Rune._

_You are who you choose to be._

_You will fall from that grace before the end._

_The real trick is learning not to make those mistakes in the first place._

_You were born the Angel of Death. _

_You will have to choose to be reborn._

_Embrace your destiny._

She awoke to the sound of her cell door slamming shut. Opening her eyes, she looked down and saw a bowl of white mush on a tray at her feet. There was also a cup of water, but although her burning throat and parched lips screamed for relief, she knew the water would be contaminated with things she preferred not to imagine.

Ignoring the food and water, the woman squinted through the dim light at her surroundings. The walls of the small space were red brick, and the floor under her was cold gray stone. The oaken door was adorned with large rusty iron hinges and studs, and there was only a tiny window in it barred by iron rods. Only a faint light came through that porthole from the hallway, and the scampering of rats could be heard from outside.

The chains that bound her hands to the wall were long enough to allow her to slump on the floor, but her arms still hung uncomfortably above her head, and her entire body ached from spending the night in that position. The idea of casting a quick cure spell came to her, but then she noticed the syringe stuck into her arm, a silencing agent, no doubt.

She heard footsteps and three muffled voices outside her cell. Keys jingled at the lock, and the door was pushed open, creaking loudly on the rusty hinges. In walked one officer and two soldiers. The woman immediately recognized the one as Sgt. Xander, one of the mutinous officers behind her arrest.

"Good morning, _General_," he scorned. "Slept well, I hope?"

She wanted to scrape the smugness off his face with the edge of her dagger, but she forced herself to appear undisturbed.

"Not even a greeting?" Xander complained.

"When they release me, I'm going to kill you," she replied calmly.

The sergeant chuckled at that. "Who said anything about you being released?"

"The Imperial Court wouldn't convict me of a moving violation, let alone treason."

Xander smirked. "Oh, no, you see, there isn't going to be a trial. General Palazzo already condemned you a traitor and therefore you are to be executed in three days' time."

Her face fell. "He can't do that."

"Who's here to stop him?"

"Leo is on his way to—"

"By the time General Cristophe gets here, you'll have been killed trying to escape," he said slyly.

His smirk only grew as the realization sunk in with her completely. She had been betrayed.

The two soldiers with Xander shortened her chains, forcing her to stand, and the sergeant pushed the blonde hair way from her face.

"Now, being the general you are, I'm sure you're well aware of what happens to traitors," Xander mocked.

She narrowed her eyes. "You'll never get away with this." Xander cocked an eyebrow, and she elaborated. "Leo's not stupid, he'll figure it out."

"But by then it'll be too late," he said, running a finger down the side of her face. "And there won't be a thing he can do."

"Leo doesn't have the balls to stand up to Kefka," one of the guards added.

"And Kefka gave us permission to do whatever we want to you." Xander stepped closer until there were mere inches between them. "So you will try to scream for me, won't you?" he asked, tracing her jaw line with his finger.

She turned her head away in disgust when he pressed her against the wall, crushing his lips against the soft flesh of her neck. The anger swelled in her as Xander's hands roamed her body, fondling and squeezing her, and when she felt a growing bulge brush her thigh, she lashed out, kneeing him in the groin. He stumbled back, but immediately retorted by striking her across the face.

"You stupid whore!" Xander grunted.

He struck her again and again before finally kneeing her in the abdomen, leaving her gasping for air, bruised and bleeding. Xander took the opportunity to drop his trousers, and he motioned for the guards to restrain the woman. They held her arms to the wall and hooked their legs around hers to keep her from kicking. She struggled as Xander loosened the laces at her waist, but the guards' grip held firm. The sergeant pushed the garments down, exposing to him that which he sought.

As he locked his lips onto hers, his hands continued to explore the crevices of her body, one crawling under her jerkin to the smooth skin of her stomach and chest, and the other inching down. He tried to force his tongue into her mouth, but she kept her jaw clenched shut. Discouraged, Xander instead began to finger her, but she thrashed powerfully, almost causing the guards to lose their hold of her. The officer pulled back and slapped her harshly, and then punched her in the stomach. Xander slipped his finger inside her, but stopped, grunting in surprise.

"I don't believe it… You're more innocent than the rumors let on." He noticed her trembling ever-so slightly as she stared at the wall. "Are you frightened?" She was silent, and he grinned. "Scream for me."

"I'd never give you the satisfaction," she spat, pushing aside the rising panic.

He laughed as he positioned himself under her. "Still, I'll be known as the first man to break the _fearless_ General C—"

"If I ever get my hands on you, I'll carve out your throat," she hissed.

Xander merely laughed again and pushed himself into her. She winced at the sharp pain and tears filled her eyes, but she clenched them shut so they wouldn't see her grief. The violation lasted only minutes, but she felt it an eternity.

When he was finished, Xander fingered the silver braided band pierced into her upper ear, a symbol of her former status.

"I don't think you'll be needing _this_ anymore," he said as he viciously ripped it out of her ear, tearing through the cartilage.

She grimaced in severe pain, but no sound escaped her lips. Blood gushed from the split flesh, running down her ear, jaw line, and neck.

"Not a sound," he mused. "Good. I love a challenge."

The beating that followed was a savage one. The chains that bound her hands to the wall left her no means to shield herself against the hailstorm of the officer's aggression. She was beaten until she couldn't stand and slumped in her chains. But even then, Xander didn't stop, disgruntled by her lack of sound. For two straight hours she suffered his wrath until finally he grew frustrated with her silence. He picked up the only piece of furniture in the cell, a chair, and swung it with all his might into her chest. Wood splintered and ribs cracked, the woman cried out and Xander laughed.

The other four seditious officers who betrayed her eventually took their turns ravishing her. Despite the pain in her chest, by the third molestation, she had grown completely numb, suspending her senses, detaching herself from the pain and humiliation. She was aware of what was being done to her, but she no longer felt it. She hung limp from her chains, on the edge of unconsciousness, her expression vacant as she stared off into space.

_Pain is a distraction_.

For nearly three days she was raped, beaten, and mocked, too weak to resist, too tired to care. But through it all, not once more did she cry out. Not a single plea formed on her tongue. Not a single noise escaped her bleeding lips again.

_I shall feel nothing._

She would be dishonored in front of those who once respected and admired her, the very men she once commanded. She would die, but she would die a silent death to preserve the last shred of her dignity. She would go quietly, not with a whimper.

_You think you know, Child…who you are…what's to come… But you haven't even begun._


	2. The Thief and the Harlot

_Disclaimer_: Wish I owned it, but I don't.

_Weeeee! I love reviews! They make me all giddy and want to write! I have maybe half of this story written already, but I'm going through and rewriting roughly seventy-five percent of it, just like I did in _Sins_. Go figure. Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, so enjoy! Enter, Locke!_

_Warning: Coarse language, violence, and references to adult subjects._

Chapter Two: The Thief and the Harlot

The Weeping Harlot. As the name implied, not the most pleasant place in South Figaro, but overrun by Imperials, it was even fouler. There, the soldiers would congregate on their breaks, drinking themselves into oblivion as they ogled the dancers, telling stories of their conquests, both on and off the field.

The perfect place for a thief with a stolen uniform to overhear a way out of the city.

He walked into the bar and ordered a beer at the counter. While he waited for his drink, the thief took a quick glance around the pub. Most of the Imperials sat two or three at a table having what appeared to be quiet conversations. There was one more boisterous table right up against the stage with seven or eight men laughing and making catcalls to the dancers. Just as the thief received his drink, a couple of the Imperials at the rowdy table called out.

"Hey, Serg! Join the fun!"

"Yeah, come on, Xander!"

It took the thief in disguise a moment to realize the nameplate on his uniform said "Sgt. Xander." _Damnit. That's the last time I steal an officer's uniform… _He couldn't back out now, so he took his beer and strode confidently to their table, hoping they were too drunk to realize that it wasn't Xander under that helmet.

"Pull up a chair, Serg," the first to call to him offered.

Apparently they were.

"We were just talkin' women."

_Of course you were._ Their speech was so slurred he was surprised they were able to stay upright in their chairs from the amount of alcohol they must have consumed. Taking advantage of the situation, the thief sat down.

"I started tell 'em 'bout yer recent exploit," the second man said, his words almost incomprehensible. "Tell 'em…tell 'em 'bout it, Xand."

The thief's confidence was wavering. "I…I've told that story so many times—"

"Come on, Serg!" the first urged.

When he hesitated, a third man leaned closer. "What was she like?"

"Uh…frisky."

A couple men chuckled. "I hear she put up a good fight."

"Well…yeah, she did, but she was no match for me, you know? I'm the Conquistador!"

They all laughed heartily at that, and the thief received a couple slaps on the back. His worry was starting to fade.

"An' chained to th' wall like tha', I bet she couldn't do nothin',"

_Chains? Great…_ "Nope. Not a thing."

"An' she was a hard 'un to break?" another asked.

"It took a while, but in the end, I had her crying like a little girl, begging me to stop."

He couldn't believe what he was saying. The thought made him want to vomit.

"Yer shittin' me, the general?"

_General?_

"See?" the second piped up. "I told ya!"

Confused and impatient, the thief was about to excuse himself, but before he could get up to leave, one of the dancers came to the table and sat in his lap.

"Hey there, you handsome thang. Goin' so soon?" she wondered, sliding her arms around his neck.

The thief found it hard not to squirm in revulsion. "Shift's over," he explained.

"But mine ain't, sugar."

The harlot shifted so that she straddled his lap, tracing a hand down his chest, and the Imperials whistled at their "sergeant's" apparently favorable position while he fought the urge to throw her off.

"Come on, honey, you've had a long hard day, but I'll help you relax."

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but I really must _leave_!"

His voice squeaked on the last word as her hand traveled too low for comfort.

"Why so tense, handsome?"

"I'm late for patrol."

"Ooh, do you patrol that secret passage under the mansion I've heard so much about?"

_Secret passage? Bingo_. The thief smiled to himself. "Yes, I do, and I really must _go_," he emphasized as he stood up, almost dropping the woman to the floor.

As he walked out of the bar, she called to him. "Come back later, baby!"

"Right," he muttered.

He still couldn't figure out what those Imperials meant when they mentioned the general, but he figured it was just drunken stupidity. Dismissing it, his thoughts turned to the apparent secret passage. _That's got to be the way out,_ he bet. There was only one mansion in South Figaro, and as far as he knew, it was being used as Imperial Headquarters. _Better keep low in there. I doubt they'll be drunk…_

He strode up to the brick building, chuckling inwardly as the guards saluted him. _Maybe the uniform wasn't a bad choice…_ They opened the door for him, and he walked inside. There weren't half as many Imperials as he had guessed, and most of them were lounging around, playing pool, and chatting casually. _So much for strict professionalism. What kind of commanding officer would allow this?_ he wondered.

No one even looked twice as the imposter sergeant wandered around the mansion. Not finding anything promising on the ground floor, he ascended the stairs to the upper level. The door to the master bedroom was cracked open, and the thief heard snippets of a conversation.

"The Imperials are all over the place," a woman was complaining. "I feel like it's not even our house anymore!"

"What could I do?" a man demanded.

"How about not selling out your own homeland?"

"Don't even start that again!"

"I'll start what I want to! You're not the one who always has to cook meals for them and mend their uniforms and baby-sit them when they're drunk off their asses! And they're constantly barging in here at all hours of the night to get to that fucking basement, and I can't take it anymore!"

The thief decided that was what he was looking for, so he stumbled through their door as if he was drunk, mumbling about patrolling the passage. Neither the man nor the woman looked pleased.

"Ugh, the stairway is right there, you imbecile!" the man yelled, pointing to the bookcase at the opposite end of the room.

The woman threw up her hands in frustration as the fake Imperial staggered to the bookshelf, peering behind it to find a flight of stairs leading down. Leaving the couple to their argument, he cautiously made his way down the long passageway, and found himself below ground. By then, it was late in the evening, but the thief still heard voices in a storage room nearby. He would have continued on without a second thought, but something he heard stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Come on, bitch, scream for me!" a man shouted.

The thief's first thought was that some innocent maiden had been cornered by some drunken grunt soldier, but the repeating sound of fist meeting flesh suggested otherwise.

"Fucking traitor!" the assailant spat.

_Traitor?_ the thief thought as she was hit again and again. His curiosity got the better of him, and he peeked through the bars of the door. With her wrists shackled tight against the wall, the woman was chained up in a standing position as she was battered continuously. The thief caught glimpses of the woman's face between the man's movements, and there was something agonizingly familiar about her eyes. Echoes of the past flitted through his mind as he raked his memory trying to remember where he had seen her before.

"_What's a kid like you doing in a place like this?"_

"_Business."_

A blow to the face turned her head to the side, and the thief noticed a scar down the left side of her face. He had seen it once before.

"_Do yourself a favor, Lance. Get out of town."_

"_You're lucky, Cole. You just flirted with the enemy."_

"_And who is this vision of loveliness accompanying you?"_

"_See? That's what I was trying to tell you, sir! That was General—"_

"_Actually, this is General—"_

"So, the mighty Celes has fallen!" the soldier taunted, snapping the thief out of his reverie.

The beating had stopped abruptly, and the thief saw that the woman could not longer stand and was hanging limp in her chains. _Of course, that's General Celes!_ Suddenly their previous meetings became perfectly clear to him; in the Leaky Mug Tavern just before Maranda was burned down, and then again in Vector at the peace banquet. The thief turned from the sight, not wanting to witness the outcome of this brutality.

"Unchain me and see how long you live, Brakiss," the general dared quietly.

The officer gripped her chin and forced her to look up. "Do you think I'm stupid?"

"Do you think I'm bluffing?" she countered darkly.

Brakiss glared at her, then let go of her chin, and the woman scoffed.

"Coward," she whispered.

"What?"

"I said you're a coward," she repeated firmly.

There was a surprisingly strong bravado in her voice, despite her condition. The woman had spirit, and was defiant to the last, something that did not make Brakiss happy. He turned and kicked her in the stomach, and she again hung limp.

"Now, you're going to swallow what I give you to swallow," he said, unzipping his pants. "Lengthen her chains and hold her," he ordered the two guards.

The two did as they were commanded, but as soon as one chain was loosened, she wrapped it around guard's neck, choking him.

"Put that anywhere near my mouth and I'll kill him," she warned.

Both Brakiss and the second guard backed off in compliance. Celes, however, merely looked down at the man whose life she held and jerked her hand, and a distinct crack echoed through the cell as the man's neck snapped.

"You bitch!" Brakiss hissed.

The officer pinned her free shoulder against the wall and released a flurry of punches into her stomach and face. He then vengefully kicked Celes in the face, and the impact threw her into the wall. Her head met brick, and she collapsed, painfully stopped by her chains.

"I look forward to watching you die tomorrow," Brakiss scorned.

Not wanting to be seen even in his stolen uniform, the thief climbed atop some nearby crates and scampered into the rafters just as the cell door opened and the two Imperials walked out, dragging the body of the guard. When they were gone, the thief dropped to the ground, landing on soft feet, and suddenly, he was caught in a battle of morals. Did he enter the cell and help this woman, this general of the Empire? Or did he turn and walk away, forgetting he ever saw her and leaving her to certain death?

General Celes was said to be an utterly ruthless, unfeeling, and merciless fiend with a frozen heart. She had killed thousands, burned countless villages, and was possibly even responsible for the raid against Kohlingen that took his love away. Perhaps it would be a service to the Returners, and the world, to let her die.

But they had called her a traitor.

Going against all sense of good judgment, logic, and reason, the thief withdrew a small metal pin from his glove and picked the lock to the cell door. Closing it with a quiet click, he turned to face the much reputed Ice Queen, the heartless general whose blood-stained iron fist ravaged an entire continent; the fearless and flawless symbol of Imperial might whose name struck terror into the hearts of men; the ice-carved goddess of the Imperial dogma.

The woman before him was pitiful.

Once again bound tight against the wall, Celes hung lifeless in her chains, her tousled blonde hair clumped by dried blood and sweat, her white tunic tattered and frayed. Blood was spattered across the brick walls and smeared on the white fabric. Countless bruises and lacerations were camouflaged by blood and dirt.

The majestic icon, fallen from grace and left to Death.

The thief knew what drove his pity. He knew what drove him to pick the locks of the general's shackles. But he didn't care. He wouldn't leave another woman to die.

One arm fell limp to her side, then the other, and with nothing holding her up, the unconscious woman slumped forward into the thief. He gently lowered her to the ground and glanced around the cell. He noticed her white armor in the corner, along with her sword, dagger, and cape. He slung the sword belt over his shoulder and draped the snowy cloak over her battered body. He also saw what looked like an earring, a silver band caked in dried blood. It was then he noticed a nasty tear in her right ear, as well as a needle in her arm. Pocketing the piece of jewelry and discarding the syringe, he carefully picked her up in both arms, wary of any possible broken bones, and proceeded out of the cell.

Turning down the hallway not yet explored, the thief searched for any possible entrance to a hidden passage. Coming into the last room of the mansion's cellar, the thief grew frustrated with his lack of success. He knew dawn was fast approaching, which meant the Imperials would be coming for the general.

Weaving through the numerous crates and chests and passing by an old grandfather clock, he rounded the corner and saw a second clock, ticking away. Puzzled, he turned back to the first clock and found its pendulum at rest. Inspecting the immobile clock, he felt a cool draft coming from the wall behind it. Careful not to bump the woman in his arms into anything, he pushed his weight against the side of the oversized timepiece. It took some effort, but it eventually slid across the stone floor, revealing a squat narrow passage. A waft of musty but cool air greeted him, and the soft sounds of swishing water reverberated through the rocky channel beyond.

Grunting in satisfaction, the thief tried to enter the passageway, but quickly realized he wouldn't fit carrying Celes as he was. He stood there, holding the woman, contemplating how to make this maneuver, but no matter which way he shifted, the two just wouldn't fit. Had he a free hand, he would have slapped his forehead in aggravation, but he settled for muttering curses under his breath.

Finally he decided that he would just have to crawl into the narrow crack sideways and drag Celes in behind him. It was still a tight fit, but he managed through, bearing Celes on top of his legs to keep her off the rough ground. Then the problem came with getting out of the crevice, as it ended with a four foot drop. With a woman limp across him and no room to adjust his position, the thief unhappily edged his body from under Celes and out of the cranny, trying desperately to hold onto the ledge. His hands slipped, though, and he tumbled the four feet to the hard wet rock below.

"Ow… Yeah, some treasure hunter you are," he mumbled to himself.

Getting awkwardly to his feet, he reach up and pulled Celes down as gently as he could. Lady Luck, though, laughed in his face as his foot slipped on the wet stone, and he fell backwards, Celes with him.

"Oh…" he groaned. "Oh gods, my back… My back… Ow…" The thief lifted his head and looked at Celes, who was _still_ unconscious. "Ugh, this is going to be a long day."


	3. A New Beginning

_Disclaimer: My piggy bank is slowly filling with pennies and dimes to buy Squaresoft, but until then, I don't own it._

_Thanks for reviewing! I'm glad you guys like it so far. You would not believe how many hours I agonized over what color Locke's hair was going to be :)_

Chapter Three: A New Beginning

Slowly, she came back into consciousness, and her senses came to her one by one. First was her touch, and she felt a horrendous pain all over her body. But she also felt a familiar sensation running through her; her magic had begun to awaken from its slumber. Second was her hearing, and she heard the soft trickle of running water nearby. Next came taste, and there was a dry coppery bitterness in her mouth. Then came smell, when the stench of dried blood and damp air invaded her nostrils.

Finally, she slowly opened her eyes, at a complete loss as to why she wasn't in either her prison cell or the execution's block. Remembering the running water, she moved her hand and felt sand run through her fingers. She looked down at herself, and saw her white cloak wrapped around her. Looking under it, she saw she was still in own boots and her torn white tunic, though it could hardly be called white under the dirt and blood. A flash of silver caught her eye, and she noticed her left hand was bare.

She sat up, ignoring the pain shooting through her body, and looked at her surroundings. She seemed to be in a tunnel, the path of the underground stream. Her sword and dagger were in their sheaths, standing against the rock wall, and her black gauntlet was laying on a stone slab by the water. There was an unfamiliar pack next to her with a couple pieces of bread on top of it. She was starving, but was wary of the food nonetheless.

She heard something coming from upstream, and saw the light of a torch approaching. Throwing off her cloak, she grabbed her sword and waded into the cold water, retreating downstream until she was out of sight.

The thief rounded the corner, and was shocked to see the woman gone. He glanced once around the area, noting that only her sword was missing. Turning around to begin looking for her, he quickly found a slightly curved but very sharp-looking blade leveled at his neck.

"Looks like you're finally awake," he noted, glancing at the sword, "…and not happy."

Her eyes narrowed in vague recognition. "You…? You were at the banquet."

The thief nodded. "With Edgar. And we met once before that, as well. In Maranda."

She tilted her head slightly as she searched her memory, vague recollections of the tavern slowly surfacing.

"Who are you and where are we?" she demanded.

"I'm Locke. Locke Cole. And we are in the hidden tunnels beneath South Figaro, roughly a quarter mile north of the city."

His voice was calm and quiet, but still she didn't lower her guard as she ran this information through her mind. _Locke Cole…_ She knew that name. Her icy stare, hard as nails, didn't soften in the least and she didn't move an inch, despite the growing weakness in her extended arm.

"You know, there's some bread over there, if you—"

"Yeah, I saw it," she interrupted. "What do you want?"

"I want to help you," he said simply. She just stared at him, raising an eyebrow slightly. "Look, Celes, I know the things they did to you…"

She cringed at the recollection, lowering her sword slightly as he continued.

"I'm not going to hurt you. And I won't let anyone else harm you, either. You have my word."

"Why should I believe a Returner?" she asked suspiciously.

This time, Locke quirked an eyebrow. "How are you so sure I'm a Returner?"

"Call it Imperial intuition," she sneered.

"Fair enough. Have I given you any reason not to trust me?"

"Other than the fact that you're breathing?" she responded dryly.

Locke smiled faintly. "And?"

"You're a Returner."

"…And?"

"I'm an Imperial."

"You _were_," he corrected. Celes was silent. "Look, as soon as your wounds heal, you can do whatever you want."

He shifted uncomfortably as she stared silently at him over the shaft of her blade. Her icy gaze seemed to pierce right through him.

"I don't need your help," she stated firmly.

"Well, then maybe you'd like it back in your cell," he retorted. "Or better yet, why don't you just kill yourself and save us both the trip back?"

His harsh tone actually gave her pause as she drew back ever-so slightly. Locke looked down and sighed.

"I'm sorry. I just thought you'd be a little more grateful."

"Then you obviously have no clue what I've gone through," she whispered. "I never asked to be freed."

"Celes, you're so young—"

"And I've endured more than most men would in three lifetimes."

"Then don't throw the rest of your life away. Think of this as a beginning."

Her head snapped up. "What did you say?"

Locke hesitated, unsure what startled her. "Uh… A beginning. A chance to start a new life."

_This is only the beginning. You will have to choose to be reborn._

The words rang clearly in her mind. She looked to the ground, surrendering to the weakness in her arm by lowering her sword.

"I'll protect you," Locke vowed, misreading her distraction as worry. "I promise…"

Celes looked up at him, but didn't respond. She suddenly looked very tired and Locke offered her his hand.

"Come on, sit down for a while. You need to rest."

She looked at his outstretched hand warily.

"Celes, I'm not going to hurt you," he assured soothingly. "If I try, then kill me."

Though he said it with a note of flippancy, there wasn't a doubt in his mind that she could harm him at will, even in her weakened state. The fact that she _hadn't_ killed him yet gave Locke some comfort, but he knew she would remain a lethal threat if provoked.

Refusing his hand, Celes walked around him to sit against the cool rock wall herself. But as soon as she bent down, she winced at the stab of pain in her abdomen and held a hand to her ribs.

"What is it?" Locke asked worriedly, rushing to her side.

"It's nothing," she muttered through clenched teeth.

"It's your ribs, isn't it?"

Celes merely stared at the ground, biting her lip. With every breath, she felt the sharp twinge course through her like jolts of electricity. She didn't resist when Locke took a gentle hold of her and eased her to the ground.

"Let me take a look."

When he reached to lift up her tunic, however, she recoiled, distrust evident in her eyes.

"Celes, that needs to be taken care of," he insisted.

Reluctantly, she submitted, though watching him guardedly. Locke carefully folded back her tunic, revealing a contusion covering her entire abdomen in menacing purplish-black.

"Oh gods…" he breathed. He pulled his pack over and started rummaging through its contents. "When did this happen?"

"When a very frustrated sergeant slammed a chair into me," she answered in a voice shaky from intense pain. "Not to mention the other three days' worth of beatings," she added bitterly.

Locke fought the urge to try to console her. That wasn't what she needed now. He pulled several different bottles from his pack and set them in the sand next to him. Taking off his bandana, he soaked it in the stream and gingerly wiped away the dried blood and dirt from the area while Celes grimaced in silent misery. He twisted the cap off one of the vials and handed it to her.

"Here, drink this."

She recognized it as a potion, and almost immediately after swallowing, she felt the pain start to diminish. Locke opened another bottle and poured some of its contents into his hand.

"This is a healing ointment I stole…er…borrowed from a merchant in town," he explained. "I imagine this'll hurt, so would you like something to bite on other than your own flesh?"

Unaware of his slipup and ignoring his attempt at levity, Celes just shook her head. Locke rubbed the ointment between his hands, then, as lightly as he could, massaged it over her broken ribs. As he did, he watched remorsefully as Celes clenched her hands and eyes shut, taking breaths as shallow as possible. Then all of a sudden, she relaxed, her hands released themselves, the tension drifted out of her face, and her breathing became calm and unlabored.

She stayed that way even after he was finished with the ointment, and he remained by her side, watching her breathe, thinking of the first time he cared for a bruised and broken woman. A woman who didn't remember her own name, much less his, even though they were…

Locke shook his head, willing the memories away. To distract himself, he gently lifted Celes' left arm and studied the complex web of steel. He rotated it and ran a couple fingers over the smooth surface, marveling at the nearly seamless transition from metal to flesh.

"What are you doing?" she muttered quietly.

He looked over at her face, but her eyes were still closed. "I didn't know you were awake."

"I wasn't ever asleep."

"Then what was that earlier?" he wondered.

"What?"

"You were in so much pain, and then nothing. You didn't pass out?"

"No. I made myself focus, concentrate, go into a world where there is no pain."

Locke raised his eyebrows. "Wow. I wish I knew that trick. Feel no pain…"

"I feel it. I just separate it from me, detach mind from body. It's still there, it's just farther away."

Opening her eyes, she tried to sit up, but the pain just came back to her. Before Locke could say anything, she brought her hand to her ribs and mouthed silent words. As he watched the green aura glow under her hand then disappear, Celes saw the questions form in his eyes.

"I was given a silencer, but it wore off enough for a simple spell," she explained.

He nodded. "Are you going to be all right?"

"Define 'all right,'" she muttered, rubbing her forehead as she sat up.

She still had a headache, and being hungry only made it worse. Locke seemed to sense this, and handed her the bread before sitting against the opposite wall.

"It's not much, but I'm betting they didn't exactly feed you."

Celes merely snorted as she tore a small piece off and put it in her mouth. As an afterthought, Locke took his canteen out of his pack and dipped it into the stream before handing it to Celes.

"Here."

She took it without hesitation and drank greedily. The cold water felt wonderful on her cracked lips and burning tongue. As she ate, Locke sat against the opposite wall, pulled out a deck of cards, and began shuffling them.

"You have cards?" Celes asked, almost disapprovingly.

"Of course. All great thie—treasure hunters carry decks of cards."

Once again, Locke's stumble was lost on her. Able to relax somewhat, though still keeping her guard up, Celes finally took a moment to study the Returner while he laid out a hand of solitaire. His dark plum headband did little to tame the tousled dirty-blonde locks that hung into his face and eyes, dark steel-gray orbs that held a degree of sadness in their depths.

His black jacket was short and open with a high wide collar and frayed sleeves only reaching his elbows. Under the jacket was a skin-tight white shirt that revealed his lithe yet moderately muscular build. He also wore close-fitting black pants and worn black leather boots. On his hands were leather gloves, black and fingerless, and various rings and trinkets garnished his fingers and hung from his wrists, neck, and belt. A single pewter hoop adorned his right earlobe, and a dirk was strapped to his right leg.

As worn as his clothes were, his face was smooth and clean, boyish in contrast to his generally rugged weather-beaten appearance. There was a trace of a Northern accent in his voice, possibly from the Irish clan from the mountains around Narshe. His skin was tanned from his extensive travels, and he seemed to be weary and jovial at the same time.

She pushed these thoughts from her mind, and focused on eating. Locke wasn't really concentrating on his card game anymore, instead paying more attention to Celes. She looked so tired, so pained, fragile and vulnerable, yet composed and dangerous all at once.

What he had noted earlier as he attended her wounds was that, though she had a tall slender figure, she was delicately muscular. He could tell the woman was in impeccable shape from her smooth yet powerful legs, her finely toned stomach and well-shaped waist, and her gracefully muscled shoulders and arms. In contrast to his, her skin was creamy white, but the feature that still struck him the most was her eyes and the piercing intensity of their paradoxical depths; brilliant as blue flame, bitter as the arctic chill. Cold, dark, and distrustful, deadened by years of pain.

Locke had expected her to be a vulnerable, broken-spirited kid who would be grateful for his help. But this was a woman whose pride had been shattered and whose faith had been shaken, and was yet full of defiance, trying to salvage the pieces of her tattered ego.

A warning suddenly went off in Locke's mind, and he assembled his cards and stood.

"I'll be right back."

Celes sensed his concern. "What is it?"

"Call it Returner intuition," he replied wryly.

He disappeared downstream, and Celes reevaluated her situation. Half of her wanted to find the bastard behind her betrayal and make him die a slow agonizing death. The other half wanted to take her sword and just end it, something she had been considering since she woke up. But something told her to wait. Surely she couldn't trust this Returner, but something urged her to see where this new path would lead her. Maybe to death. But maybe to the answers to all her questions.

A short while later, Locke returned looking quite rushed. "Listen, Celes, normally I would never even consider asking you to walk in your condition, but it seems the Imperials are tearing the city apart looking for this passage, and I wouldn't want to press our luck by lingering too long."

Celes figured she really had no choice; Locke had vowed not to leave her there to die, and she was in no condition to go it alone, so she merely nodded her agreement. She refused his offer to help her walk at first, as her pride was already hurting enough, but she eventually stumbled from her agonizing wounds. Moving swiftly in front of her, Locke caught her shoulders before she fell.

"Why are you helping me?" she asked again.

"Because I can."


	4. Rest, Recoup, and Chunky Stew

_Disclaimer: Still don't own it._

_This is a shorter chapter. Ha! I will make you suffer in your deficiency! I'm trying to keep up a good pace, but sooner or later I'm going to get stuck. Just a heads up._

Chapter Four: Rest, Recoup, and Chunky Stew

The underground stream surfaced one hundred yards from where the two had rested. Locke needed to get to Narshe, but Celes desperately needed rest, not to mention a decent meal and suitable clothes.

"Come on. There's a cabin up north we can stay at. It's a bit out of the way, but it'll be more comfortable than the ground."

Celes just nodded tiredly. She was losing strength, and fast. They happened upon a traveling merchant who sold them medical supplies and some simple leather armor that would keep Celes a bit more protected than just her torn uniform. Locke also bought a gray cloak for her, as her white one was too identifiable, especially with the Imperial Eagle embroidered onto it.

The walk to the cabin would normally take only an hour, but with Celes' injuries it took triple that. When they finally reached the tiny cottage, Locke helped her over to one of the cots.

"Why don't you lay down while I see if there's any food around?" he suggested.

Fortunately, she laid down without complaint. She hadn't said much since they left the underground passage, and Locke safely assumed she was exhausted. Setting his pack and new supplies next to the cot, he went on a quest for something edible. An ice chest was set against the back wall, but when he tried to open it, the lid wouldn't budge. He tried to lift it with all his might, but to no avail. He attempted one last time with a heaving tug, but instead of jerking the lid open, he wrenched his back. He bit his tongue to keep from screaming and foolishly kicked the chest, only adding to his agony as he fell to the floor, clutching his foot and letting out a loud string of curses that won't be repeated here. He looked up at the chest in contempt, and from his pitiable position, he saw his problem: there was a padlock on the lever hindering it from opening.

Another long phrase of curses rolled off his tongue.

"Who in all the nine circles of Hell locks their ice chest?" he muttered bitterly, taking out his lock pick. "This is so beneath me. How utterly humiliating."

Within seconds, the lock fell the floor, barely missing Locke's already throbbing foot, and the lid lifted open easily. Inside was a single pot filled with some sort of frozen chunky substance.

"Um…I _think_ I found some frozen stew," he announced to Celes. "It could very well be older than I am, but at least it's food," he joked with a laugh.

There was no response. Abandoning the stew temporarily, Locke walked to the cot where the general lay.

"Celes?" he called quietly.

There was still no response, and he realized she had fallen asleep, and for some reason, the sight made him smile. Returning to his previous task, Locke lit a small fire in the hearth and hung the pot on the hook over the flames. Even when the stew had warmed thoroughly, she hadn't awakened, and Locke let her sleep. After draping a blanket over her, he pulled a chair to the window overlooking the fields, wanting to make sure Imperial scouts didn't sneak up on them. He occasionally got up to stoke the fire just enough to keep the stew simmering, and then he'd check on Celes and watch her lay so still, looking so peaceful.

_Just like her…_ he thought.

Without his permission, his mind wandered back to _her_, laying lifeless in some dark cellar, with no one but some crazy herbalist to keep her company. He tried going back once. To see her. He got as far as reaching for the doorknob to the basement before turning and walking away, never looking back.

Behind him, he heard Celes begin to stir. He went to the fireplace, ladled some stew into a cup, and brought it to her just as she was sitting up. Locke could see she was biting back the desire to whimper in pain, but when he tried to help her, she just pushed his hand away. He handed her the cup, and she gave him a tired nod of thanks. Locke then filled his own bowl and returned to her side.

"We shouldn't stay here long. The Imperials are probably tearing their hair out looking for you, and I doubt it'll take them long to find this cabin. Besides, I have to get to Narshe…"

She stared at him for a long moment, holding her cup close to her face, and Locke felt as though she were mentally dissecting him.

"You're a badly wanted man, Locke Cole," she finally said. "Extortion, grand larceny, sabotage, espionage, and all against the Empire."

"You know, it won't do you a lot of good to start holding that against me _now_."

Celes ignored his comment. "And now you're adding release of an Imperial prisoner and harboring of a condemned traitor."

"You're forgetting breaking and entering, assault with a deadly weapon, and posing as an Imperial officer, but your point would be?"

"Do you have a death wish?"

"I think the better question is do you?" She dropped her gaze. "Celes, if you want to leave and get yourself captured or killed, then I can't stop you. I just wanted to give you the chance to live you wouldn't have gotten in South Figaro."

"Why do you care so much?" she asked almost resentfully.

"Because I know what it's like to feel lost. Alone. Betrayed. And I vowed long ago not to let another suffer that if I could do anything about it."

Celes noticed the tears threatening to fall from Locke's eyes and the spoon rattling in his cup as his hands trembled, but she said nothing.

"If there's one thing I've learned, Celes, it's that the gods don't close a door without opening a window."

"They have to leave something you can jump out of," she muttered quietly.

Despite himself, a smile tugged at the corners of Locke's mouth. "My point is… Look, just come with me to Narshe."

"Why?"

"There's someone I want you to meet. Someone who I think can relate to you better than I can."

She didn't respond, and they were both silent for a long time as they finished eating. After Locke disposed of their dishes, he sat on the edge of Celes' cot, earning a suspicious glance.

"Is it alright if I take a look at your ribs?"

Too tired to argue, Celes just leaned back in consent. Locke was pleased with what he found.

"The bruise has diminished. Faded a bit, too. That's a good sign. Wow, you must have super healing powers or something," he joked.

"Accelerated healing, actually. Result of my magic."

"That's fortunate. Well, for good measure, have another potion." He pulled a vial out of his pack. "If not for your ribs, then for your ear. That doesn't look too pleasant." A thought occurred to him, and he dug in his pocket and withdrew the earring he had found in South Figaro. "By the way, here. I'm assuming this is yours."

Celes stared at the piece of jewelry, then took it and set it on the nightstand. Wordlessly, she laid down and closed her eyes. Obviously something upset her, but Locke chose not to inquire. He said a quiet goodnight and returned to the window to keep the night watch.

"_Do you have a death wish?"_

That's what she had asked him. Locke was well aware of the risks that came with his job. For years now, the threat of death had been hanging over his head, but that hadn't stopped him. A part of him still clung to the hope of reviving _her_, but maybe he really did have a death wish. Maybe he was no different from Celes in his desire for his pain to end. He scoffed inwardly at his own hypocrisy, then sighed.

_Rachel…if only you hadn't pushed me out of the way…_


	5. Cold as Ice

_Disclaimer: Erm… Nope. Don't own it. There is a line taken from _Lord of the Rings: Return of the King_, which I also do not own, so don't hurt me._

Chapter Five: Cold as Ice

"Watch out!"

Two bodies crashed to the rocky ground as a monstrous drill swept overhead.

"Need I remind you I have a severe case of broken ribs!" Celes shouted angrily.

"So you're saying you'd prefer a drill through your chest?" Locke retorted.

"Just go for the sensor eye!"

The thief jabbed at the red eye of the tank, but a small clawed arm swung forward and knocked the dirk out of his hand.

"Um… Any other suggestions?" he called.

The iron beast began emitting an ear-piercing squeal.

"It's about to use its magic!" Celes warned.

"This thing can use magic?" Locke practically screeched. "What now?"

Celes whipped out her Rune Blade and its etchings took on a mystical glow as she chanted.

"Hale ca, runi men ca la. Ala den que met ca la, runi ca."

A bolt of lightning was sent at Locke, but it abruptly changed direction and instead flowed right into the glowing sword.

"What the hell was that?" Locke exclaimed.

"I'll explain later, just get ready!"

Celes held out her hand and called upon the energy stored within her blade, releasing the same charge of electricity back at the giant armored tunneler, stunning it.

"Now, Locke!"

The thief rolled under the drill and retrieved his dirk, then stabbed it up into the red eye. The sensor shattered, and the entire mechanism shut down. Both breathed a sigh a relief and made their way out of the caves.

"Ok, what was that back there?"

"I don't just have the ability to use magic," Celes explained. "I can also absorb it into my Rune Blade and use that energy as I see fit."

"Even as magic that you haven't technically learned?"

"Yes."

"…That's handy."

The two had just left the cabin that morning for the caves west of South Figaro, where they were attacked by the Tunnel Armor. Now out of the gloomy passages, they were faced with the Figaroan desert. The better part of the long scorching journey passed in silence, except for Locke's occasional complaints about the heat. Celes' natural coldness kept her relatively comfortable at least. She was recovering quickly, but still had a long road to full strength, as her ribs were still tender and fragile. The indication of her torture was still evident in the major gashes and bruises she retained, but it was gradually fading away.

They reached the coal mining city two and a half days after leaving the cabin. The Narshe guards posed a nuisance, but between the skills the two travelers possessed, the sentries were easily avoided. When they entered the home of Arvis, a Returner sympathizer, Locke was met with warm welcomes from his friends, while Celes was met with mixed looks of vague recognition and skepticism. She looked on silently, avoiding eye contact with everyone.

"Cole, you made it," the king, Edgar, greeted.

"Of course," Locke laughed. "You think a minor thing like an entire army is going to stop me? I'm the world's premier adventurer!"

No one noticed when a brawny figure in the corner of the room behind Celes quietly drew his katana.

"Who's with you?" Edgar asked incredulously, his eyes narrowing.

Locke hesitated momentarily, then didn't get the chance to answer.

"Imperial General Celes Chere," a deep voice rumbled bitterly.

Celes reached for her the hilt of her sword, but was stopped at cold steel pressed to her throat.

"No, no!" he warned. "Thou hast not the speed, General."

Celes swore under her breath. She had thought she felt a presence behind her earlier, but dismissed it. By the time she felt the danger, it was too late, and she cursed herself for it. Locke, however, swore not-so under his breath when he saw the predicament Celes was in.

"Oh shit…"

An older, but strong looking Doman warrior held the tip of his katana to the Imperial's throat. And he didn't look like a reasonable kind of man.

"Cyan, what are you doing?" the king's brother, Sabin, asked frantically.

"This is the Butcher of Maranda! She's killed thousands!" the older warrior reasoned.

"I've butchered more than Maranda," Celes muttered icily. "And you'd be wise to lower your katana."

There was a deadly calm in her tone that made the others anxious, not to mention her annoyed expression that would make the strongest of men cringe. Locke had heard that a glare from General Celes was like staring down an angry behemoth, and at that moment, he wished for the behemoth. Even in her wounded state, Locke could only imagine what she was capable of, and she was only getting stronger with each passing day.

Cyan ignored the suggestion, misinterpreting her warning. "Thou believe I fear this petty thief?"

"Hey, call me a treasure hunter or I'll—"

"Locke!" Edgar interrupted impatiently. "I have two questions for you, Cole. How…and what the hell were you thinking?" he asked angrily, gesturing towards Celes.

"Edgar!" Locke exclaimed, but the king cut him off.

"Explain. Five words or less."

Exhaling in exasperation, Locke held up a finger for each word. "Beaten. Half. To. Death."

Locke looked at the four fingers he held up, then looked at Edgar. The king merely shifted his eyes to the general for a fleeting moment.

"You have one word left. Choose wisely."

Locke glanced back at Celes before answering. "Traitor."

"She's an Imperial spy! She must be dealt with," Cyan insisted.

"I have no qualms with you, Doman. But I will if you do not _lower your blade_," she warned venomously.

"I suffer no Imperial to live within my sight," Cyan snarled.

The Doman drew back to cleave her head from her shoulders, but just before his katana reached her throat, her left hand shot up and caught the blade, and she turned towards him, carrying with her a glare like a glimpse into Hell as she forcefully lowered the warrior's sword.

"_You will suffer me_," Celes growled frigidly.

"Impossible," Cyan seethed, seeing no blood flow from her hand. "Daemon!" he spat.

"Edgar, this needs to stop before someone gets killed!" Locke implored.

The Figaroan monarch merely looked the other way, not knowing what to do. Cyan jerked his sword back, catching Celes off guard and pulling her with it. She cried out as the Doman's knee impacted with her ribs, and her once vise-like grip on the blade dropped immediately. The older warrior raised his sword for the death blow, but Locke rammed into him with all his might, forcing him into the wall.

"Back off!" the thief yelled.

Cyan shoved the smaller man back. "If thy allegiance lie with the general, then thou art mine enemy."

He once again lifted his katana to strike, but this time Celes came forth, her Rune Blade sliding from its sheath like a striking cobra, and sparks flew as the two blades collided.

"Your quarrel lies with me," she hissed. "And I have no more patience."

Celes released her right hand from the hilt of her blade and extended it towards the Doman, a cold sphere of misty energy growing out of thin air.

"Stop this!"

A young green-haired girl ran forth and grabbed the general's outstretched hand, and the sizzling of fire meeting ice was clearly heard throughout the room. Celes' expression softened.

"Terra?"

The girl looked into the other woman's eyes, and a shadow of recognition flickered in her emerald eyes. Just then, a Narshe sentry burst into the room, holding a piece of paper.

"Sir!" he called to Banon, the leader of the Returners. "One of our men found this in town. They're being posted in all major cities around the world."

Banon took the paper, and read it in silence. Everyone else was quiet, shifting their gaze between Banon, Celes, Cyan, and Terra, none of whom moved an inch.

Almost as soon as he started reading, Banon looked up at Celes with an odd expression before continuing reading. After a moment, he looked up at Locke, slight anger flashing in his eyes. He finished reading, and forcefully handed it to Locke.

"Mind explaining this?"

**Imperial Military Report: Sept. 8, 1019**

**General Celes Chere accused and convicted of treason. Sentenced to death. Jail cell found empty. In pursuit of Chere and Returner suspected of freeing her, Locke Cole. Both considered extremely dangerous. Kill on sight. Reward for information or their bodies.**

**Celes Chere: White female. Age: 18. Height: 5'9". Weight: 119 lbs. Eyes: Blue. Hair: Long, blonde. Other Identifying Traits: Biomechanic left hand, wields a sword with engraved markings on the blade. Magic user. Element: Ice**

**Locke Cole: White Male. Age: mid-20's. Height: near 6'. Weight: 140 lbs. Eyes: Gray. Hair: medium, blonde. Other Identifying Traits: Wears a bandana. May travel in disguise.**

Locke read it over, wincing at the mention of his name and the order to kill on sight. Banon didn't even wait for him to start explaining.

"Do you realize what you've done?" His tone was harsh. "You've endangered not only our mission, but the lives of the Returners by bringing her here."

"What are you talking about, Banon?" Locke asked in exasperation.

"You were supposed to be discreet in your dealings in South Figaro. You were supposed to go undetected, unidentified. But now they know it was a Returner who slowed them up, and what's worse, that he's harboring a wanted traitor. You've probably led the Imperials right to us!"

Celes stopped paying attention to Cyan and more to the conversation, as did Cyan. The two simultaneously disengaged from their deadlock in a silent truce, and Terra also released Celes' hand. The general walked to Locke and took the report from him, scanning it quickly while Locke and Banon continued to argue.

"What was I supposed to do, Banon? Leave her there to die? She'd already been tortured for three days straight! She'd already suffered indignities no human being should have to endure!"

"Locke, rescuing an Imperial _foot soldier_ is one thing. But you jeopardized our entire movement by freeing an Imperial general, someone who may have better served this world dead!"

Before Locke could get a hold of himself, he lashed out, punching Banon square in the jaw, knocking him to the floor.

"Locke!" several people yelped in surprise.

Celes was also visibly taken aback by his aggressive reaction. The only person who had ever stuck up for her like that was Leo back when she was a kid. While Sabin and Terra helped Banon to his feet, Edgar grabbed Locke's arm and forcefully turned the thief towards him.

"Locke, what the hell is wrong with you?" Locke looked away and didn't respond. "You just hit _Banon_! And for what?"

Still Locke didn't reply. He kept his head turned away with his eyes closed as if ashamed of the answer. Edgar groaned.

"You're not still thinking about _that_, are you?" Again, no answer. "Gods, Locke… You're taking this too far."

"You know…" Locke finally started. "I try to do a good thing, and it blows up in my face. And do you know what's ironic about this? People hate me for bringing Celes here almost as much as I would've hated myself for leaving her. Not a single person is appreciative. Not even Celes herself."

With that, Locke walked out the door. Everyone stood in awkward silence. No one could really argue his point, except for Terra.

"I think he did a good thing," she said softly.

Edgar studied Celes for a long moment, seeing a look of indifference in her darkened expression. He wondered if she really wasn't grateful for his help, if she really didn't care. Maybe she _was_ unfeeling…

"He's protective of you," he noted pointlessly. "Much more protective than he ever was of Terra…

Celes looked up at Edgar, shifted her gaze to Terra for a second, then walked to the end of the room furthest away from everybody to gaze out a window.

"Just don't get the wrong idea," Edgar called. "Locke has a complicated past."

She turned and glared at him. "What the hell do you think I am?" she asked spitefully.

"Cold as ice," the young king muttered under his breath. "Look, I just wouldn't want you to think he's fallen for you or something."

Celes scoffed in disgust and turned back to the window. Banon bent over to pick up the military report the general had let fall to the floor earlier and conversed quietly with Edgar while rubbing his jaw.

"You do realize that there are people here in Narshe who would not hesitate to turn Locke and Celes in? And that if they decide to, the Imperials will be on our doorstep in a matter of hours?"

"Well, what are you going to do? Turn them away? You might as well turn them over to the Imperials yourself. Look, I've known Locke for years, and I've learned to trust his judgment. And if he trusts Celes… She's not all that different from Terra."

"On the contrary," Cyan argued, "Terra had no free will, whereas the general chose to serve the Empire."

"Did I?" Celes asked from across the room, having heard everything. "I may not have worn a slave crown, but that doesn't mean I chose my path. I don't deny the things I did. I don't deny the choices I made. But I never _chose_ to serve the Empire. I was born into it…_bred_ into it," she finished in a whisper.

"That's no excuse," Cyan spat.

"Were you not born into the service of your liege?" she retorted quietly.

That shut Cyan up. He almost told her not to compare herself to him, but he knew it was a losing argument. As much as he hated to admit it, she did have a point.

Celes also walked out, deciding it was best not to stay where one wanted her blood and another probably ordered her assassination two years before. It was already getting dark out, and she noticed curious lights off in the distance. She didn't think anything of them, though, and started to walk down the steps.

"Going somewhere?" a familiar voice asked gently behind her.

She stopped. "Perhaps."

"Ok. After all, that was the deal. Only as far as Narshe…"

Celes turned towards Locke. "Not going to try to stop me?"

He just shrugged. "Your choice."

"Can I just ask one question?"

"Shoot."

"Why'd you do it?" she queried, motioning towards the house.

Locke thought for a moment. "Because I believe that you're more than your reputation, and I believe in sticking up for who you really are."

Celes appeared to be dumbfounded by this. The more she tried to understand him, the more puzzled she became. Locke barely even knew her, yet he had gone so far as to make enemies out of friends to defend her.

"Besides," Locke continued. "I promised I'd protect you. I don't back down on my word."

"You make it sound like you're coming with me," Celes noted indifferently.

"Well…"

Now Locke was caught at a crossroads. He held promises to two people. One was choosing a different path, and the other was staying with the Returners, where Locke held certain responsibilities. Was he willing to give that up for one person? Who needed him more? Maybe Edgar was right, maybe Locke was taking things too far.

"Not…not necessarily," he finished. "I mean, I don't suppose I could convince you to stay…"

Celes looked back to the horizon, seeing the lights had grown brighter, as if they were closer… A realization struck her. _The Imperials! Of course… Half my unit was joining Kefka's to raid Narshe…_

Locke noticed Celes was staring at something in the distance with a strange expression on her face. She looked confused and anxious, but like something suddenly made sense.

"What is it?" he asked worriedly.

Just then, a Narshe sentry ran past them into the house. "The Empire cometh!"


	6. Revelations

_Disclaimer: Last I checked, I didn't own a multi-billion dollar corporation._

_Thanks to my readers and my few faithful reviewers. You guys are the best!_

Chapter Six: Revelations

"The Empire cometh!"

"What?" various people yelled.

The sentry was followed in by Celes and Locke. "It's Kefka," the former general stated casually. "He's come for the Esper."

Cyan shot Celes a stony glare, but she ignored it. Locke in turn stared at Cyan, silently daring him to comment.

"Mayor, I fear Narshe's neutrality has been officially breached," Banon mumbled regretfully.

"It was breached when you began subversive Returner activity in my city," the mayor retorted, sending Arvis an angry look.

Celes decided to speak up. "Actually, if you want to get technical, it was when Terra was initially sent here for the Esper." Everyone looked at her. "What?"

"Listen, these paltry squabbles will get us nowhere," Edgar finally cut in. "This important thing right now is to keep that Esper out of Imperial hands."

Cyan drew a deep breath at that, throwing Celes another dark look, but he said nothing.

"Edgar is right," Banon agreed. "We must put aside our petty differences if we are to ward off this attack. Mayor, where is the Esper?"

"We moved it into the hills."

"Then we're going up after it," Edgar stated firmly.

Locke looked to his female companion. "Celes…"

"If you're going to ask me to fight, forget it," she snapped coldly.

"We're outnumbered, Celes. Badly. We need all the help we can get."

"Give me one good reason I should kill my own brethren."

"Once an Imperial dog, always an Imperial dog," Cyan muttered.

Locke ignored the Doman. "Other than the fact they tried to kill you?"

"A reason to avoid them, not walk up and say hello," Celes countered.

"Celes—"

"I will not get involved in this," she restated.

Locke reluctantly submitted. "Alright. Just do me a favor and stay here until we get back."

_If you get back_, she thought. She nodded in agreement. The Returners filed out of the house, but Terra lingered a bit longer.

"Are you sure you won't come?"

Celes looked up from the floor to Terra's emerald green eyes. "Let me ask you something, Terra. Why are you doing this?"

"Um…well…I…I'm not really sure _what_ I'm doing. I'm still not sure about all this… But everyone has been so nice to me…"

Celes simply nodded pensively. "You realize nothing has changed, right?"

"What?"

Celes wondered if maybe she shouldn't burst Terra's little bubble of false security. Though Terra was entitled to know the truth—and was too naïve to figure it out herself—Celes decided now wasn't the time.

"Never mind. You should go."

Terra watched Celes for a moment, confused by what she meant. She had no idea why, but the girl found herself fascinated by the female general. There was something familiar about her, but she couldn't quite place it. A fleeting memory that she couldn't grasp a hold of. Pushing it aside, she ran to catch up with the others as they climbed into the foothills of Narshe, leaving Celes to her thoughts.

She sighed. "Oh, bloody hell…"

((ooo))

When the Returners reached the ground where the ensuing battle would take place, they planned out their strategy while the wild child, Gau, perched himself atop a nearby rock formation, watching for the Imperials. The narrow passages of the rock maze provided the perfect advantage for the undersized resistance. The numerous Imperials wouldn't have the room to launch a full-scale assault, and they would be forced to break up into small teams. The Returners would then be able to whittle their numbers down slowly but surely.

"I don't want to fight anymore," Terra said quietly.

"Terra, we kind of need you," Edgar explained worriedly.

"You mean you need my…abilities."

"Listen Ter, as much as we hate to admit it, we do need your magic," Locke confessed. "There are so few of us here, and who knows how many Imperials are coming."

The girl sighed. "…Alright."

"Uwaoo! Bad men come!" the boy Gau alerted.

"Well, here we go! Take your positions!" Edgar ordered.

Each of the three teams guarded the three paths out of the maze of rock and ice. Sabin and Locke were on the left, Edgar and Terra were on the right, and Cyan and Gau were in the middle. The large unit of Imperials lined up and began its advance through the rocky field, while Kefka and his second in command waited at the bottom of the foothill. It wasn't long before the first wave of troops was upon the warriors, and the long bloody battle commenced.

Wave after wave attacked. Bodies and dismembered parts littered the frozen ground. The glow of the torches and moonlight danced eerily off the blood-stained snow. The acrid smell of burned flesh and blood hung in the frigid air. The sound of clashing metal and pain-filled screams echoed through the night. The taste of fear, sweat, and blood trickled onto the warriors' tongues.

Down below, Kefka was cackling madly, but he was so engrossed by the carnage, he didn't hear the muffled shriek of his commander as a sword sliced through his back and into his heart. The body slumped to the ground, and Kefka felt a cold presence behind him.

"Well, if it isn't General Celes! How are you, my little—" he turned and found a bloodied but familiar sword leveled at him, and finished with, "traitor? I must say, I am quite perturbed by what happened in South Figaro. Had I known they would take matters into their own hands like that—"

"Who's the traitor, Kefka?" Celes interrupted. "You left me there to die. In fact, I'm beginning to wonder if you didn't order it yourself."

"Careful of your accusations, Celes. Such an attitude is what got you in trouble the last time," he reminded with a knowing grin. "But come, now. Surrender quietly and I'll take you back to Vector myself for the chance to redeem yourself in court. But if you attack me now, your life will be over," he warned.

Her sword lowered slightly. The idea of getting the entire misunderstanding sorted out was enticing. But then, the memory of her arrest flashed in her mind.

"_The next man to question my authority dies with him."_

"_Careful, Celes. For you to kill an Imperial officer on a whim is dangerously close to treason."_

"_Kefka… What the hell are you doing here? You're supposed to be in Doma."_

"_And I'm leaving from this port. What's going on?"_

"_General Chere refuses to step down."_

"_Failure to follow standard procedure for relief of command? Now that _is_ treason."_

"_But you don't call mutiny among my men treason?"_

"_Worry not, Celes. We'll get this all sorted out, but I'm afraid I will have to have you detained first."_

The true realization was finally beginning to dawn on her. It never registered with her before, never even crossed her mind because the thought was at one time unthinkable. Xander's words brought it crashing down.

"_Kefka gave us permission to do whatever we want to you."_

"It was you." Kefka tilted his head to the side at her whisper, and Celes met his gaze. "_You_ were the one who betrayed me."

A wicked smirk slowly creased his face, and every muscle in Celes' body coiled, ready to spring into action at the slightest twitch Kefka made. Every brain cell in her mind worked like lightning, analyzing every aspect, every detail of her surroundings and her rival.

"So tell me… Kefka began casually. "How _was_ your imprisonment? Was it cozy?"

Celes' expression hardened into a glare that could melt steel as she gritted her teeth and tightened her grip on her sword. A split second later, her blade was whistling through the air straight at Kefka's neck. He narrowly drew his sword to deflect it, stumbling back under the frantic action and forceful impact. The Returners, though still engaged in their epic battle, took notice of the escalating conflict.

"I thought she said she wasn't getting involved!" Edgar yelled over to Locke.

The two generals charged at each other and both spun clockwise, their blades clashing in the end.

"So did I!" Locke shouted back.

All pretense of strategy vanished. All patience was thrown to the wind. Each allowed their hatred of one another to drive them, control them. They twisted and turned around each other, ducking, dodging, and deflecting each other's blows. They struck with impossible speed and accuracy, creating a deadly whirlwind of razor-sharp wrath. Both were incredibly strong, swift, and agile, but anyone could clearly see Celes was the better of the two. Her fatigue, though, was beginning to show. She lunged forward to impale him in the stomach, but Kefka leapt nimbly aside, seeing Celes wince out of the corner of his eye. She slashed at him several times, but he dodged easily to either side.

"What's the matter?" he taunted. "You're more sluggish than usual."

Though frustrated by the truth in his statement, she quelled the rising anger, and a plan quickly formulated in her mind to end the confrontation. She did a simple but swift round kick, but when Kefka caught her foot as she knew he would, she launched herself off her planted right foot into a clockwise spinning back kick. Her right foot connected with his jaw, and her sword arced out and slashed across his chest. Kefka staggered back, howling in pain and dropping to his hands and knees. He watched warily as Celes approached him, her sword still menacingly drawn.

"Well met," he growled. "Like the true Knight you are. But don't think this is the end."

He quickly drew a smoke bomb from under his colorful robes and threw it at the ground in front of him. Celes rushed to slash at him, but hit nothing but smoky air. Coughing in the smoke, she swore under her breath. Through the haze, she caught sight of a flash of color as Kefka ran down the foothill to where his escorts awaited. Celes stood silently still as she watched him flee.

The Returners had successfully fended off the raid, and the last two surviving Imperials fled back down the mountain pass through the maze of rock and right into Celes. She recognized them immediately: Xander and Brakiss.

"Well, if it isn't my personal persecutors. Coming to face retribution?"

"Don't make us fuck you again, Chere," Xander sneered, his confidence returning briefly.

Celes' icy expression turned colder and deadlier. She flung her Rune Blade with lethal accuracy at Brakiss, impaling him in the neck with such a force the blade was driven hilt-deep. Xander stared at his companion wide-eyed as the man fell to his knees, drowning in his own blood. Celes could see the fear resurface to Xander's eyes as she drew her dagger.

"Remember what I told you in South Figaro? That if I ever got my hands on you, I'd carve out your throat?"

His confidence shattered, and Xander bolted. Celes was quick and cut him off, grabbing him and throwing him against the rock. He tried to fight back, but she struck him across the face, forcefully turning him around, and vengefully stabbed her dagger into the side of his neck, restraining him across the shoulders with her other hand. He gasped for breath, choking on his own blood.

"Scream for me," she whispered.

As she slowly pushed the dagger forward and across the curvature of his neck, Xander let out a blood-curdling squeal before falling dead in a sea of blood. The other warriors watched Celes' brutal display in slight horror. How anyone, especially a woman, could commit such a grisly act of violence, they didn't know. They watched as a look of grim satisfaction crossed her blood-smeared face, and every single one of them was suddenly grateful she was on _their_ side.

Locke finally snapped out of his trance and walked over to her, putting a hand on her shoulder. She merely looked at him, her expression softening to something other than satisfaction. For a spilt second, Locke thought he saw grief, perhaps even disgust at what she had done, but it quickly faded to a blank stare. Shrugging him off, she retrieved her sword out of Brakiss' neck and wiped her two blades off the best she could.

"I thought you weren't getting involved," Locke called.

"There's a difference between involvement and revenge," she replied icily. She unexpectedly lowered her head with a faint whisper. "And I failed."

"You came out of it alive, right?" Locke pointed out, trying to make light of the situation.

When she didn't respond, Edgar cleared his throat. "Well, we should get up to that Esper. Shall we?"

The group of battered warriors climbed to the summit where the frozen Esper loomed. Terra and Celes were immediately drawn to it, and both involuntarily reached out to touch the ice prison.

"Uh, maybe you shouldn't…" Locke warned, but he wasn't heeded. "Oh… ok."

Both stood entranced by the magnificent beast, captivated in its piercing gaze.

"An Esper…" Terra said.

"I can actually feel its mind…" Celes followed.

Her eyes closed of their own accord as her thoughts became enthralled by the mental presence of the mystical creature. Her fascination was interrupted, however, when a haunting echo filled her thoughts, running her blood colder than usual.

_You think you know…who you are…what's to come… You haven't even begun._

Startled, Celes snapped her eyes open and abruptly dropped her hand from the ice, taking a step back. It had spoken to her. It had spoken the same words Shiva had the previous week.

"It feels…familiar," Terra whispered. "What am I feeling?"

A warning flashed in Celes' mind, and she began moving away from the Esper. The others were confused, and also frightened.

"Terra, back away."

Terra started breathing heavier. Her head was lowered and her eyes were closed.

"Terra…!"

In an explosion of light, two arcs of electricity shot forth from the Esper, the white one colliding with Celes, throwing her back, and the crimson one connecting with Terra. The discharge knocked the other warriors to the ground. A field of electrical energy formed the mage, and she was sent to her knees.

Locke crawled over to Celes and helped her sit up. "What's happening?"

The light intensified. "I have a feeling you're about to find out."

The warriors watched as Terra's green hair was replaced by a fiery mane of fur and pink tongues of flame sprouted from her flesh all over her body. The girl was doubled over and screamed in agony. Her fingers turned into sharp talons, and her emerald eyes changed into devilish little beady eyes of the deepest onyx. The light subsided, and the vaguely humanoid fiend stood up. Celes called to the others.

"We can't let her leave."

Celes threw out her hand, sending an icy blast at Terra. The wave of energy hit the disfigured girl, but caused no damage, stopped by an invisible force inches from her body. The polar energy rolled over Terra like waves on the shore, pooled, grew, and was suddenly repelled back towards Celes, slamming into her and throwing her back several yards. The general landed hard and didn't move.

Terra looked down at herself, then launched herself into the air, shrieking her torment as she flew off. The last Celes heard was Locke saying her name before she slipped into darkness.


	7. Reflections

_Disclaimer: Don't own it._

_Ok, I'm really sorry for the long wait. There's been a lot of stuff going on lately, what with college about to start, my nephew about to be born, and my slightly fanatical distraction with _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_. I haven't been in the mood to write recently, but worry not, I have every intention of finishing this...eventually. This chapter isn't much, quite pathetic really, but at least it's something, right?_

Chapter Seven: Reflections

_You think you know, but you haven't even begun._

Celes awoke with a start, breathing heavily. Sitting up, she saw she was in bed in an unfamiliar room. Hearing muffled voices beyond the door, she calmed her breathing and listened.

"I just don't know, Locke," Banon was saying. "Letting her stay here…"

"What has she done that makes you distrust her still?" the thief asked.

"Besides almost killing Cyan?" Edgar answered.

"She was provoked! The guy put a sword to her throat, she was defending herself!"

"Locke, she's one of the Empire's Elite," Sabin reasoned, "as close to Gestahl as you can get."

"Exactly! And you don't see the value in that?"

"I do see the value in that," Edgar began. "But I also see the danger."

"What danger?"

"We find the general's sudden turn from the Empire hard to fathom," Cyan stated.

"It's…unsettling," Edgar agreed. "Something isn't right about it."

"General Leo…" Everyone looked at Sabin. "I was in the Imperial encampment near Doma when Leo received word of Celes' arrest."

"And?" his brother urged.

"He seemed…shocked."

"What happened then?"

"He found Kefka and threw him against some crates. I couldn't hear exactly what they were saying, but it sounded like Leo was accusing Kefka of…something. Anyway, Leo left for South Figaro to transfer Celes to Vector. That's when Kefka poisoned Doma…"

A moment of silence passed in respect for those who had been murdered by Kefka's antics.

Edgar drew a hesitant breath. "Transfer to Vector for what?"

"Trial," Sabin answered.

Celes, who was now standing in the doorway, narrowed her eyes, but said nothing.

"Trial…" the king mused. "Locke, didn't you say she had already been convicted and condemned?"

"Yeah…"

"Something's not right about this," Edgar concluded again. "Celes is arrested seemingly out of the blue, Leo leaves his post to Kefka to take her to trial, but she's already been condemned, and in Leo's absence, Kefka poisons Doma… I don't like this. It doesn't fit."

"Why don't you just ask her?" Locke suggested.

"Because he wouldn't like the answer if he did."

They all whipped their heads around at the voice, finding Celes in the doorway with her arms casually crossed. She seemed quite calm and indifferent, despite what they had just been discussing.

"Celes—"

She silenced Locke by raising her hand. "Kefka used poison in Doma?" When Sabin nodded solemnly, she turned to Cyan. "Then I am sorry for your loss."

Her gentle sincerity surprised them, but still Cyan scoffed.

"Thy apology is like the sting of salt to my wounds."

A shadow of hurt passed over her face, but it quickly faded as Edgar stepped forward.

"I have to ask…"

Her expression betrayed nothing as she silently debated her answer to the unspoken question. The truth wouldn't make her situation any less precarious, but she also didn't see the need to hide it. After all, what could the Returners do to her that doesn't already hang over her head?

"Whatever happened in South Figaro doesn't matter anymore. I engaged in combat with Kefka with intent to kill, so I'm pretty much screwed either way."

Locke dropped his eyes to the floor. "You didn't betray the Empire…did you…?"

She looked directly at him, though he wouldn't meet her gaze. "Locke, I frankly don't give a shit about your cause. I'll come with you, but I'm in it for one thing: revenge. The sooner you all accept this, the sooner we all get along."

Cyan was the only one not made speechless. "So in other words, General, we can't trust thee beyond the mutual goal of defeating Kefka."

Celes looked at the Doman placidly. "I never asked you to trust me in the first place. Nor do I trust any of you."

Her last statement was subtly aimed towards Edgar, but the significance was lost on all but the king and Locke. The former seemed to cringe at the cryptic reference, and he sent the latter a bitter glare for involving the general in Returner affairs.

Oblivious to the voiceless concern circulating through the room, Sabin turned to Celes. "What about Terra?"

That gave Celes pause. "…Alright, two things."

"Do you know what happened?" Banon asked.

"Yes."

"And?" he prompted.

Celes sighed, unsure if she should reveal Terra's secret to these rebels. They seemed to genuinely care about the girl's wellbeing, but then again, nothing was ever what it seemed. Her mind inadvertently wandered to when she discovered that very secret herself._ Terra…Test Subject B…the Terrestrial Project and its sister, the Celestial Rise…_

Celes snapped back to reality when Locke waved a hand in front of her face. She briefly met his concerned gaze, then sighed again.

"Terra is half Esper."

A resounding silenced fell across the room as her candid statement sunk in with each person at different paces and with varying effects. Locke appeared shocked, Sabin bewildered, Edgar half stunned and half in awe, and Cyan speechless. Banon's eyes glimmered with inspiration and hope, and Gau just scratched his head in ignorance.

"Wh…what? Wh-what do you mean 'she's ha-half Esper'?" Locke stammered.

"Terra is the offspring of a human and an Esper," Celes reiterated, hoping it would satisfy them and close their gaping mouths.

It didn't.

"…How?" Sabin managed to sputter out.

Celes shook her head. "Terra isn't even aware of it herself, so it's really not my place to explain. All I can say is that her transformation was somehow catalyzed by the Esper."

"And…are you…?" Locke ventured carefully.

Her sudden sharp intake of air was imperceptible to the others. "I'm the product of two humans, genetic engineering, and magical augmentation. I'm _not_ half Esper."

Her almost defensive tone aroused some curiosity in the Returners, but no one dared pressed. Banon cleared his throat.

"I believe it's time we return to the issue at hand. With this new understanding of Terra's powers, it's even more urgent we find her."

Celes shot the rebel guru a dirty look. "So you can use her to fight your pathetic little war just like the Empire did?"

"And thou play the innocent in this matter?" Cyan challenged.

"I never asked for Terra to be involved in any of this, but it was never my prerogative to decide!" Celes retorted angrily. "Believe me, I'm the only friend that girl's got! So if you want her safe, then I strongly suggest you shut your mouth and stop questioning me!"

Silence again reigned after the general's surprisingly passionate outburst. They began to see how the still-teenage woman managed to control an army.

"…Right then," Locke said awkwardly.

"Yeah," Edgar followed.

"Didn't you say Terra was seen heading west?"

"Screaming like a banshee? Yes," Edgar confirmed.

"Then let's go!" Sabin pushed eagerly.

"Hold on there, muscle-man," Edgar entreated good-naturedly. "Some of us have to stay in Narshe and help Banon protect the Esper."

Celes abruptly walked out the door, not even bothering to stick around for the decision on teams. She had no desire whatsoever to work with the Returners, but she knew it was probably in her best interest. She would go with them until she knew Terra was safe, _then_ she'd leave without a second thought. An irritating arrangement by her standards, but it would have to do.


	8. Sleeping Beauty

_Disclaimer: Time for a little math problem: How many different ways are there to say 'I don't own Final Fantasy?' Answer: not enough and far too many._

_I managed to squeak one more chapter out before college starts. Yay! I wrote the walking through Kohlingen scene months ago, and it's still one of my favorites. There's a subtle reference to T. S. Eliot's _Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock_ with the smoke and windowpanes just for a sense of poetry. Thanks as always for reviewing, and enjoy!_

Chapter Eight: Sleeping Beauty

The team finally chosen to search for Terra left for Figaro Castle the following morning. Wanting to avoid confrontation between Celes and Cyan, the Doman was elected to remain in Narshe. Locke was insistent on going with Celes, if not to keep his promise of protecting her, then to keep his promise of protecting Terra. Sabin was too restless to be left in Narshe, and Edgar was anxious about the state of Figaro, so Gau was to stay with Cyan.

Other than a change of clothes for the overly conspicuous king and the worse-for-wear general, along with restocking on supplies and rest, the stay in Figaro was uneventful. With the ingenious maneuverability of the castle, the quartet was transported beyond the mountains to the Kohlingen plains in a matter of hours.

Upon arriving in Kohlingen the next evening, Locke went into a daze. He stood at the town's entrance staring at a damaged house at the northwestern end. It was a cold night, but that's not why Locke was shivering. He shuddered at the ghastly sight of the ruined cottage that held memories of past life…and a past love. Edgar put his hand on Locke's shoulder understandingly and Sabin watched worriedly as the two started towards the abandoned structure, and he and Celes padded quietly along behind them.

As they walked, Celes gazed placidly at the homes of the still village, their windows softly lit by candlelight. The only sounds were of their footsteps on the cobblestone path and the fall leaves of trees rustling in the gentle caress of an evening breeze. Somewhere in those trees was a solitary nightingale singing its sweet song.

Through the cold night air, a light snow began to fall over the village. The small flakes of diamond dust and the feathery swirls of chimney smoke sparkled in the soft moonlight. Soon the cobblestone path was graced by a downy coating of gleaming powder; a striking setting that would capture the attention of any artist.

And Celes saw none of it.

She was used to the harsh setting of Vector, where everything was brick and steel. There, it was dirty and reeking of sewage and chemical waste. One could barely see the sky through the noxious haze, and the constant drone of machinery obliterated any chance for tranquility.

She observed the scene, but couldn't appreciate the perfection of it all. When she looked at the stone cottages with their candles flickering faithfully through the darkness and thin trails of smoke licking their warm tongues against the windowpanes, she didn't perceive the absolute beauty.

How could she? She had no concept of beauty. She was raised in a world where beauty was forbidden and where things such as creativity and individuality were considered blasphemous to the Empire.

She looked upon the village through the eyes of a warrior, the shadow of her memories masking in icy darkness any admiration of the peaceful hamlet. She felt no compassion for the parents tucking their children into their warm beds, nor for the neighbors who felt safe chatting on their porches in the steady torchlight.

She felt only the fleeting reminiscence of the flames she ordered lit that day two years ago in a different place, a different life. She saw only the phantoms of her men chasing innocent men and women down in the streets. She heard only the whisper of their screams in the wind.

They reached the severely fire-damaged and long since vacated cottage, and waited while Locke walked tentatively inside. Sabin turned to Edgar.

"Brother, what is this place?"

"Someone very close to Locke used to live here."

"Used to?"

Edgar hesitated. "…She's dead."

Celes' brows furrowed slightly, but she said nothing. After a few minutes, the three entered the ramshackle house to find Locke standing in the middle of the room.

"…wasn't there…when she needed me…" Locke muttered almost to himself. "I…I failed her…"

Locke turned and walked out into the snow and made his way to the other end of town to another house, this one undamaged. Edgar, Sabin, and Celes followed him down into the basement of the house, and were surprised to see the body of a young woman laying in a bed, an old man watching over her.

"Mr. Cole!" the man greeted with a crazy glint in his eye. "It's been a while! But worry not! Your treasure's quite safe!"

Locke gazed down at the sleeping beauty, seemingly lost in thought. Except for the senile old man who guffawed continuously, something about his herbs, they all stood silent for several minutes, watching from a respectable distance. Locke gently caressed the woman's cheek with the backs of his fingers.

"I…failed her…"

Locke bent down and lightly brushed his lips against hers. Sniffling quietly, he backed away, tears threatening to fall, but he didn't leave, lost in his memories. Celes, too, stood still, her face unreadable, but seemingly entranced.

_FLASH_

"_Celes, behind you!"_

_Leo's warning was needless as her sword was brought around and thrust back in one fluid motion, and for the first time, her blade bit through flesh and tasted blood. _

_FLASH_

_Deserters gathered as she threw a helmet to their feet. It was the helm of their commander. _

"_Your comrades are dead," she stated firmly. "And you will all share their fate for your disobedience."_

_For the second time, the blood of the mutinous militia stained the ground._

_FLASH_

"_Two hundred civilians have been gathered in City Hall, just as you ordered, ma'am."_

"_Torch it."_

_The screams of those burning alive pierced the still evening air and for the first time stabbed at the general's icy heart._

_FLASH_

"_Get all the clergy out. Then burn it."_

_The white cathedral was only the start of the Purging of Vector. And not for the last time, her mind was branded and burned by the cries of the innocent._

_FLASH_

"_Eliminate all threats to the Empire."_

_For the first time, she stood over the body of a young girl, virgin blood dripping from her blade. Not her first kill, and certainly not her last. No, murder. That was the word. The girl's blue eyes were open and clouded, staring into nothing. Red blotches painted her yellow flower dress and blonde hair. Celes looked at her hands, and not for the first time, her tears tainted the blood-stained ground before she returned to her men, hard as steel once more._

_FLASH_

Celes came back to reality and tore her gaze from the body in front of her, realizing Locke and Edgar had left, and Sabin was gently shaking her arm to get her attention.

"You all right?" he asked.

She met the martial artist's gaze, but her expression betrayed a distance greater than usual. Outside, the thief and the king waited in the frosty air. Locke, his gaze fixed on the ground, seemed oblivious to everything around him, not even noticing when Celes and Sabin finally joined them.

Gloomily, they dispersed to their respective destinations. While Locke and Celes went to the inn and paid for their rooms, Edgar and Sabin went to the café where a familiar figure clad in black sat at the counter. The dog at his side gave a warning growl, and the man didn't even lift his eyes from his drink as he spoke in a low tone.

"We meet again."

"Shadow," Sabin greeted.

"I trust you found your way," the dark man said. "And you, king of Figaro…I thought the general would have throttled you by now."

Edgar notably averted his gaze to a corner of the café at the mocking tone, also avoiding his brother's questioning glance. The mercenary gave a low chuckle before turning serious.

"Leave us."

"What was that about, Brother?" Sabin asked as they retreated to a table.

"Don't worry about it."

"But—"

"I said don't worry about it," Edgar repeated sternly.

The king threw a nervous glance over his shoulder towards the assassin, but the man was gone.

((ooo))

When Celes reached her room, she absently threw her pack onto a chair and laid down, not even bothering to undress or climb under the covers. She merely laid there thinking. Thinking of a past that dared not be revisited. But she couldn't stop.

Maranda. A peaceful village destroyed two years earlier for supporting the Returners. She closed her eyes and saw the chaos. She felt the heat of the flames and heard the cries of the innocent. The air of death and the smell of blood and charred flesh was suffocating. She could taste the fear in the air as a shark tastes blood in water.

Snapping out of her reverie, Celes got up and looked out the window of her room, seeing that it was still snowing lightly outside. Wanting to get some air, she decided to go for a walk to clear her head. Passing by Locke's room, which was quiet as a tomb, she stepped outside into the frosty air. Breathing in deeply, Celes pushed all thoughts out of her mind, a trick she had learned many years before.

Crouching on the hill overlooking Kohlingen, a figure noticed Celes step out of the inn. Even through the snow, he saw a distant and somewhat distracted expression on her face. After a moment, she began walking slowly through town without her cloak and, more notably, without her sword. The soft clicking of her heels on the stone path echoed through the still air.

This woman was a puzzle to him: a gifted general of the most powerful army in the world, commanding the same respect as Leo, and the same fear as Kefka. She held the fate of the Imperial Continent in the palm of her hand, had town after town practically kneeling before her with offerings of gold, grain, and goods. She had the Returners on the run, even more or less trapped in their own hideout, ready to be exterminated, but now here she was traveling with the most infamous of the lot, completely abandoning her Imperial roots.

The man grinned deviously. _She'd make a good mercenary._

But the greatest puzzle of all: how was this woman alive? The question plagued his mind day after day since seeing her in South Figaro. He had a perfect record and had watched the arrow hit its mark, so how was she still standing?

Celes stopped beside the small stream that snaked along the northern edge of Kohlingen. Sitting down with her legs folded casually to one side, she gazed into the tranquil water, oblivious to both the cold flurry around her and the pair of eyes studying her from afar. The surface of the stream was like a mirror, sparkling under the vast sea of stars, reflecting perfectly the snowy scene surrounding it. Such peace and perfection did not sit well with her, and she ran her fingers through the water, ruining the flawless beauty. For a haunting instant, Celes swore she saw a cloud of red trail behind her hand. A chill ran up her spine, and she suddenly got the feeling she was being watched. When she searched her surroundings, however, she found no potential source of her unease.

The man emerged from the shadows for a last glimpse of the woman. _Our paths will cross again, Chere._ It was not thought in malice or contempt, but with a mere sense of Chance. Silently, he slipped away through the darkness, and Celes was alone again.


	9. Garden of Gods

_Disclaimer: Uh…no?_

Chapter Nine: Garden of Gods

The four left Kohlingen in silence early the next morning. No one dared bring up the topic of the previous night's events lest they awaken painful demons of the past. The Figaro brothers had inquired around town about sightings of Terra, and it was said she was seen heading southeast towards Zozo. Unfortunately, the group had to travel far south to pass around the extensive mountain range.

Locke seemed to gradually return to his usual jovial self the farther from Kohlingen they got. Celes, though, appeared to be withdrawing even more. She would often walk apart from the other three, usually staying ahead of them because of her keen sense of direction and uncanny instinct for danger. When they stopped their trek for the evening, she would even sleep away from the campfire, preferring the comfort of the cold and isolating darkness of night.

Feeling the urgent need to find Terra as quickly as possible, they stopped in Jidoor only for supplies and one night's rest. They asked around about sightings of the half Esper, but no one had seen her, so the group rented chocobos to hasten their journey to Zozo.

The closer they got to the destitute city, the darker the sky became. Ominous clouds highlighted by flashes of lightning loomed over the Zozo, and the sound of thunder could be heard in the distance. About a mile out, it started to drizzle, gradually becoming a moderate rain shower, prompting them to don their cloaks.

The city that never sees the light of day appeared deserted at first glance. The shops, pub, and inn were all run down and abandoned. Trash and several rotting corpses littered the streets, though thankfully, the constant downpour washed away the otherwise guaranteed stench. Upon closer inspection, however, it could be noted that shadowy figures lurked in the shadows, watching the newcomers with great attentiveness.

"I don't like this," Celes said, strangely out of character. "Something doesn't feel right."

"Don't worry, I'll protect you," Locke assured her, more out of habit than anything.

Celes fought the urge to scoff in disgust. "My hero," she instead replied derisively.

She noticed a mousy-looking man loitering near the alley they were passing by. Deciding to ask him about any sightings of Terra, Celes called to the others.

"You guys go on ahead. I'll catch up in a minute."

"I don't think you should go off alone," Locke protested.

"Just go, I'll be fine."

Her tone did more than suggest they shouldn't argue, so though they were hesitant, the guys nevertheless continued on while Celes spoke with the Zozoan. A block later, the three found themselves surrounded by a rag-tag dozen of thieves and cutthroats. Their clothes were torn and dingy, but their knives were sharp and pointy.

Sabin brandished his claws. "What do you want?"

The reply was a malevolent chuckle from the lot of them.

"We don't want to fight, but we will if we have to," Edgar warned.

Another amused chuckle circulated through the rough gang until one of them stepped forward.

"Oh, we don't want to fight. We just want to have a little fun."

Another figure approached. "Hey! You want to play? Play with me."

Locke groaned and shook his head. "Celes…"

The thieves turned to meet their challenger, and laughed at the sight of the 'meek' little girl they found before them. The leader gave her a lingering once-over, but only the Returners recognized the dangerous glint in her eyes.

"Well, hello there, miss. Interesting proposition." He chuckled, a devilish smirk creasing his face. "What'll that cost me?"

A wicked smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Your life."

Half the band rushed her without a second thought, leaving the three Returners against much better odds. Celes didn't even flinch as the six attackers closed in. When the first was upon her at a dead run, Celes ducked down and barreled into his abdomen, flipping him effortlessly over her shoulder.

Not even drawing her blade, she let herself fall back on instinct, trusting her years of training to guide her through the assault. Amidst their own battle, her companions caught flashes of the wildcat fighting with a cold darkness rivaling the shadows, colored by the slightest tinge of hidden rage. They even spared a precious moment of thought to wonder where this sudden fury came from, and why it surfaced now.

Within minutes, only the leader of the band and one other stood against her, the others thrown to the cold wet stone, struggling to rise. She ducked under the leader's swing and jutted her right leg backwards into the stomach of the other, sending him down. A final uppercut to the leader's jaw rendered him out of the fight. As he dropped to his knees, Celes took his head between her hands and twisted it sharply.

At the crack that sounded, and the body slumping to the ground, everything but the rain fell silent. Those who had been poised to strike their opponent stilled their hand mid-air and turned towards the unfortunate one. And those who had been knocked down slowly got to their feet, their eyes fixed on the limp body.

"Gods, she…sh-she killed him," one Zozoan sputtered.

The fatal violence and the ease of its passing were not anticipated by the thieves, especially not from the traveler they presumed least dangerous. Now, not a single one of them dared tempt his fate to avenge his fallen accomplice. As quickly as they had come, the band scattered back into the shadows, leaving yet another corpse in the deserted streets for the rats to scavenge.

Death was not taken lightly by the Returners. The act of taking a human life was a troubling, if not still foreign concept to them. Even Imperial soldiers were looked upon as the unfortunate men used as pawns trapped by the emperor's warmongering, and their slaying was avoided if at all possible.

"Celes…?"

Not sparing the lifeless form a second thought, she brushed past Locke and started for the southern part of town. "I know where Terra is."

((ooo))

"Are you sure Terra's up here?"

"The guy claimed to have seen a bright light flash at the top of this building."

"And you trust him?"

"Only one way to find out."

After scaling numerous flights of stairs, as well as the daring jumps between buildings, they finally reached the top floor. They walked cautiously down a long corridor lit by torches, where the carpet was of an ornate design, and on the walls hung elaborate pieces of artwork. The decoration was surprising, considering how run-down the rest of the city was.

Suddenly, the corridor opened up to reveal an impossible scene: rolling grassy plains under clear skies and warming rays of sunlight. A gentle breeze made the grass and colorful flowers sway to its caress. A large stone pedestal was the only break from the infinite meadow, and atop it lay a bizarre, yet familiar pink form.

"Terra…" Locke whispered.

"What is this place?" Sabin wondered. "How is this possible?"

"There are powers at work," a mysterious voice began, "beyond your wildest imaginations."

The four warriors immediately reached for their weapons.

"Please, do not be alarmed." An old man materialized from the lush green backdrop. "I am no threat to you. On the contrary, I believe I can help you."

The man had a long white beard and a staff of old knurly wood. He had a gentle aura, and his eyes glittered with wisdom.

"Ramuh," Celes breathed with a slight bow of her head, a surprising degree of respect from the general. "You escaped…"

"I did. And I sensed Terra's pain, so I summoned her here."

"And where is here, exactly?" Sabin inquired again.

"You are in the Garden of Gods," he explained, "an illusionary dimension between the worlds of human and Esper."

The sage received only blank stares from the men; Celes simply remained quiet, allowing the entity to explain.

"It is a gate separating the two worlds, keeping them from merging together."

"And…why is that?" Locke pressed.

"Humans and Espers cannot survive together." Ramuh said plainly. "The War of the Magi is testament to this fact. Over one millennium ago, humans and Espers did indeed coexist in a delicate balance of trust. It was a time when humans were still developing their culture, their identity. Their focus was not on weaponry or war or domination, but on the arts; paintings, sculptures, music, dance, poetry, and theater. However, when their culture reached its pinnacle, the humans began to crave a different kind of beauty."

"Magic," Edgar guessed.

"Precisely. When we told them the human race was not ready for such power, they became spiteful. All the evils of today's world were unleashed; envy, greed, pride, violence, and control. Corrupted by their greed and driven by their resent, they began developing weapons and armor. They even began enslaving Espers, extracting our powers to feed their abominable machines. And so, one thousand years prior to this day…"

"The War of the Magi," Sabin concluded.

Ramuh nodded. "Espers fought Espers, humans fought humans, and they all fought each other. The half-breed race of Magi tried to remain neutral, but were later hunted down by the humans for being gifted. We expelled the humans from our world, along with their envy and greed for what we hoped was forever. We once again lived in peace and prosperity for a thousand years. However, almost twenty years ago…"

"Gestahl invaded," Celes finished bitterly.

Ramuh again nodded solemnly, though eyeing the woman with notable interest. "Humans once again discovered the entrance to our world. Over a period of two years, humans snuck into our world and kidnapped those of my kin. The numbers of those taken was small at first, but one day, Gestahl came to see our world for himself. He ordered the capture of my people until we finally reforged the seal, but by then, hundreds were imprisoned in that Devil's Lab of the emperor's city. Drained of our powers and tossed aside, we were left to die. But Gestahl's methods are incorrect. A live Esper cannot be entirely drained of its power. Only when we…pass away…can our raw power be harnessed in the form of magicite."

"Magicite?" Locke wondered.

Ramuh reached into his robe and pulled out three stones. They had the appearance of fiery rubies encased by varying gems: aquamarine, topaz, and amethyst.

"These are three of my comrades who fell while escaping Devil's Lab," Ramuh told them sadly, handing them to the thief. "And soon I, too, will give you my power."

"What'll happen to Terra?" Edgar asked. "You said she was in pain."

"She is afraid. And confused. She does not know why she exists, and so she cannot move on."

"There has to be something we can do!" Edgar persisted.

"As soon as she accepts this aspect of herself, she will recover. Free my kind imprisoned in Devil's Lab. One there can surely help her."

"Maduin…" Celes murmured.

Ramuh again turned to the woman. "And you, Child of the Ice." Celes slowly met the sage's gaze, then quickly turned away. "Yes, I sense much turmoil in you. You will face many trials along the way, but the time will come when you will prove yourself."

"I have nothing to prove," she said defensively.

"Then why do you seek acceptance so?" he countered gently.

She look incredulously at the Esper. "…I seek nothing."

"Perhaps one among those imprisoned can also help _you _discover _your_self as Maduin will Terra."

The others looked quizzically at Celes. Locke began to voice their shared query. "Celes…are you--"

She cut him off. "I told you before, I'm the product of two humans, with genetic engineering and infused Magitek. I am _not_ half Esper."

Ramuh sighed, slowly shaking his head as he watched Celes walk back the way they came, vanishing from the dimension.

"If you truly believe that, then either you have not been told, or you simply deny the truth."

"What truth?" Locke asked.

The Esper seemed to hesitate before answering. "That although a human egg was used in her conception, most human properties on the female side were extracted, replacing them with those of Shiva. So technically, Celes _is_ half Esper, but not in the physical sense Terra is."

There was a deafening silence in the room until Locke finally broke out of his trance and followed Celes out. Ramuh addressed the brothers.

"Please, help my people. They deserve better than their current fate. I shall join my fallen comrades, adding my power to yours. Use it wisely. And one final word of advice: in this world, nothing is what it seems."

A light flashed, and when it faded, the brothers saw that a yellow shard lay where Ramuh once stood.

"…Is he really…?" Sabin's voice trailed.

Edgar bent down and gingerly picked up the magicite. "So this is what the Empire seeks…"

"What do you think it does?"

"Beats me."

"Maybe Celes knows…"

Edgar stood still for a moment, then turned to where Terra slept. "We'll be back soon, Ter. Wait for us."

Taking the magicite, the brothers, too, disappeared from the dimension. Outside, Celes was leaning with her arms crossed against one of the building's support columns, gazing out over the desolate city. Locke, who was somewhat near her, had his arms resting on the railing, and was also looking over Zozo, though occasionally stealing a glance at Celes. It didn't appear they had been conversing at all.

Edgar and Sabin remained quiet as they entered the terrace. All that could be heard was the rain hitting the rooftops above and pavement below. Far off, a woman's scream pierced through the pouring rain. From the other side of town, the roar of a Gigas rivaled the thunder echoing overhead.

"I'll go to Vector."

Celes' sudden statement startled the men. Locke's head snapped up to look at her with an expression of disbelief.

"What? Celes, no."

She glanced curiously at Locke. "I know it well."

"Celes, that's suicide! If they catch you--"

"I'm well aware of the risks, Locke. And I know the Empire, its strengths _and_ its weaknesses. I'm going."

"…Then I'm going with you."

It was Celes' turn to be in disbelief. "You're what?"

"I'm going with you," he repeated with the utmost sincerity.

"…No."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't need the 'righteous crusaders' tagging along! You'd only get yourselves killed." Then, she quickly added, "And what good would you be to Terra then?"

Locke withheld a smile at the concern Celes let slip and her failed attempt to cover it up.

"Celes, it's no more dangerous for us than it is for you," Locke reasoned. "And you're going to need help. One against an empire isn't very good odds."

"Oh ye of little faith," Celes muttered.

"Need a hand?" Edgar offered.

Celes stifled a groan, but couldn't withhold a sigh. A clap of thunder echoed through the deserted streets below.

"I really don't think this is a good idea," she said finally.

Locke simply looked at her expectantly. She glanced at the three men, then gazed back at the obscured horizon and sighed.

"Fine," she conceded.

A consensus was reached that they would return to Jidoor and decide what to do from there. They weren't quite sure how they would get to the Southern Continent. No commercial boats went there, and Celes couldn't exactly arrange transport on an Imperial cruiser.

After a long and silent day's walk, they stopped and made camp. The brothers were out gathering more firewood to last the night. A comfortable distance from the campfire (as usual), Celes sat against a tree cleaning her sword. Locke sat on his bedroll near the fire watching the blonde. If she noticed him gazing at her, she didn't show it. After a long silence, he shifted nervously and spoke.

"Can I ask you something?"

Celes continued meticulously polishing the blade inch by inch with the cloth for a moment as if she hadn't heard him.

Then in a flat tone, "Alright. We both know how much I love chitchat."

Locke hesitated for a second. "Do you really not care?" She didn't respond, obviously not understanding the context. "About the Returners?" he clarified, choosing his words carefully.

"Your cause?" she inferred, still not looking up from her sword.

"…Yeah. You never answered me when I asked if you actually betrayed the Empire."

Evading the actual question, Celes continued focusing on the sword, the slightest trace of amusement flickering in her eyes and voice.

"My goodness, are you trying to figure me out? I'm flattered," though her vaguely sarcastic tone suggested otherwise.

"Just answer the question," he insisted in a strangely quiet and gentle tone.

Celes continued silently polishing the blade, not looking as though she would answer. Locke was about to give up when she suddenly spoke again, her tone quiet but matter-of-fact.

"I told you before; you wouldn't like the answer."

"I just want to know." She didn't respond. "Come on, Cel, I'm not going to judge you."

Celes hesitated with the cloth for the briefest moment before resuming the tedious task. He had called her 'Cel,' a nickname used only by those closest to her, by those she trusted most. And yet, it didn't bother her. And it was _that_ notion that troubled her.

"Locke, why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"Coming with me?"

"Well…someone has to make sure you don't get yourself executed," he quipped, though some seriousness glinted behind his mirth. "And besides, I've always wanted an inside look at the Empire."

"You won't when you get there," she mumbled.

She held her sword up to inspect it, the flickering firelight dancing off the lustrous blade. Satisfied, she sheathed it and stretched out on her bedroll just as the brothers were returning. She lay there with her eyes closed listening to the crackling of the burning wood and the low murmurs of the three men as they tried to figure out how the magicite worked.

At some point she drifted off, but even then she felt a blanket being gently draped over her. Soon after this, she fell into a sleep plagued by images of the past, both things she's seen and done, and things that she could not possibly have known of. But if there's one thing she's learned, it's that there's no rest for the wicked.

_You think you know who you are. You haven't even begun._

_Author's note: Ok, the opera is coming up next, and I have no idea how things are going to happen yet, so it may be a while. Feel free to leave me shining reviews while you wait. Always appreciated :)_


	10. Warrior, Diva

_Disclaimer: Isn't mine, never was mine, never will be mine._

_For your patience, I present you with TWO chapters! School has been keeping me busy, so I'm proud of myself for finally getting these done. And here's my shiny thanks for your shiny reviews!_

_This chapter is another one of those transition chapters, meaning not much is happening. I didn't want to do the whole explanation of everything leading up to the opera, but I think this gets the point across. I did have fun with the scenes in Jidoor, though..._

Chapter Ten: Warrior, Diva

When they awoke the next morning, the guys noticed Celes was moodier than usual, even more withdrawn. There was a long awkward silence while the four ate breakfast. Somehow the guys always felt smothered by her apparent mood swings, and they knew the former general was not one that should be tested.

Even after started on their way again, Celes didn't seem to lighten up any. It wasn't until after they eliminated a pack of desperate Red Fangs that she finally came around, looking satisfied while cleaning the blood off her sword.

"Aggressions to work out, have we?" Locke braved.

She merely looked at him and gave a content grunt, making the thief smile a bit. Had they not been so relieved by the lift of her mood, the guys would have realized that Celes actually derived satisfaction from combat, perhaps even from the act of killing itself.

Sabin, being fidgety when not doing something constructive, took out a piece of magicite from Edgar's pack and stared into its fiery core while they walked. It was the spirit of Ramuh, and the rock seemed to spawn webs of electricity within.

"How the hell do these things work?" the bodybuilder finally whined in frustration. "Celes?"

The mage glanced over her shoulder at him before retuning her gaze to the path before her. "You think I know?"

"I just figured…"

"That because I can use magic, I automatically know how to use magicite?" she finished for him.

"Well…"

"You've got to at least have _some_ idea," Edgar guessed. "Just try."

Celes stopped and took the magicite from Sabin and gazed into the core brimming with electricity. Her eyes seemed to close of their own accord as she drew a deep breath, letting it out in a whisper of an incantation while the guys exchanged glances.

Out of the cloudless sky, a bolt of lightning snaked its path to the ground near the group, startling the men. Celes opened her eyes as if coming out of a trance, looking almost confused.

"How did you do that?" Locke asked.

"I…really don't know," she replied hesitantly.

"You don't know?" Edgar wondered.

"…No."

"Then how—" Sabin started.

"It just sort of…happened," she explained.

"Just like that?" Locke persisted, snapping his fingers for effect.

"Yeah…"

"But you don't know how?" Edgar followed.

"Right…"

"Huh."

Celes opened her mouth as if to speak, and the others looked at her expectantly, but she quickly closed it. A very long silence prevailed as the mage tried to formulate an explanation, until Locke's voice finally cut through the stillness.

"How do you _think_ you do it?"

Celes hesitated. "I think I…pictured the spell while I focused on the magicite…"

"Focus how?" Edgar interrupted.

"…If you quiet your mind, you can hear it speak to you."

The guys held back a snort; they knew better than to think that Celes was delusional.

"Ok, so you saw the lightning in your head…" Sabin prompted.

"And the incantation just came to me." The mage received blank stares. "Like I said, it spoke to me. I just…did what it told me."

"…Huh," Edgar grunted again.

"Here, let me try," Sabin offered.

Celes handed him the stone, and he gazed into it as they both had done before. Following Celes' instructions, he cleared his mind, going into a slight meditative state. He imagined the lightning striking the ground, and heard the words echo in his head. They were words in a language he had never spoken before, yet they rolled off his tongue as if it was his native dialect.

The thief and the king watched in awe as a second bolt struck the ground before them. If Celes was impressed at all, she hid it well, her neutral expression betraying nothing of her thoughts.

Locke and Edgar both took a turn with the magicite. Not having been trained to do so, it took them longer to quiet their mind, but both were successful in the end. Having learned how to use it, the guys figured the four stones should be divided up between the four party members. Celes, however, adamantly refused to take one, and they knew better than to press.

((ooo))

Even by the time they returned to the wealthy city of Jidoor, they still had no clue where to start. With the wellbeing of Terra hanging over their heads, and time being an unpredictable concern, the four agreed to split up and make inquiries with the locals about possible transportation to the Imperial Continent.

_Sabin_

Sabin wandered somewhat aimlessly around the art gallery. He honestly didn't know what he was doing there of all places, but figured he had better be thorough. Feeling a tap on his shoulder, he turned to see the attractive brunette curator waiting behind him.

"Excuse me, are you looking for something in particular?" she asked.

"Um..."

The busty woman eyed him with notable interest, and the martial artist found himself flustered.

She batted her eyelashes at him. "See anything you like?"

"Um, well, I'm-I'm not really, uh, looking," he replied nervously. "But I was wondering if you know anyone with a boat, or something like that?"

"A boat?" The question threw her off, but she recovered quickly. "All the private yachts have been impounded by the Empire, but that sounds so romantic."

"Uh...sure. Thanks anyway."

Sabin turned to leave, but she held his arm.

"Wait! I was thinking, if you don't like anything here, maybe you'd be more interested in seeing my...private collection," she offered flirtatiously.

His eyes went wide. "Uh, no, that-that's more my brother's area."

"Oh, you have a brother...?"

_Edgar_

The barmaid giggled. "I think you've had enough to drink."

"No, I really am a king," Edgar insisted. "I live in a castle and have loyal subjects. But none are as beautiful as you, milady."

The redhead giggled shyly again, and Edgar flashed her one of his winning smiles.

_Edgar, you devil you,_ he thought to himself. _Well, I time to get down to business._

"So, Tina, do you like sand...?"

_Celes_

Everywhere she went in Jidoor, people stared at her. The first few she noted happened to be younger men, and she just assumed it to be a normal guy-staring-at-girl thing. But soon she started to notice women looking at her funny, as well, and then almost everyone she saw would gawk at her and whisper to each other. Another explanation came to mind.

"I was never even assigned to Jidoor, how can they recognize me?" she muttered, cursing her reputation.

The situation grew slightly disconcerting when one young man in particular began following her. Celes tried to carry on like she didn't care, but she eventually grew tired of her stalker and turned abruptly to confront him.

"Is there something you need?"

The man donned the look of a chocobo caught in the searchlights of an M-Tek Armor.

"Oh m-my g-g-gods. It r-really is you."

Celes was already impatient, and his stutter wasn't helping. "Sure. Now get lost."

"W-Wait!" he pleaded. "C-Could I ask just o-one s-s-small autog-graph?"

"What? No."

"Please? M-My wife would just die!"

"Oh, well in that case, no!" she reiterated.

Celes virtually stormed away, cursing her repute once again. Unconsciously avoiding every person in sight after that, Celes, too, didn't have any luck finding anything out.

_Locke_

Locke slithered between the assorted clusters of people in the market, eavesdropping on their conversation, listening for anything helpful. Even in the more or less serious situation, the thief still couldn't help his sticky fingers, and walked away from each group of people with gold watches and cufflinks, coin purses, the occasional necklace here and there, and even one gentleman's eyeglasses.

The thief spotted a diamond bracelet on the wrist of a fairly large woman, and moseyed his way closer. After waiting for the right opportunity, he reached for the piece of jewelry, but the woman shifted her stance without warning, and his hand landed directly on her rear end. He didn't even see the purse coming until it whacked him on the head. Retreating quickly back into the crowd, he slipped away from the extremely ticked off woman, rubbing his now throbbing head.

Disgruntled and distracted by a growing headache, Locke walked on, staring intently at the ground, and he barely managed to avoid crashing into a familiar blonde.

"Oh, hey, Celes. Sorry, I—whoa..."

Locke did a double take, noticing the refined skirt-and-blouse combination, makeup, and ornate jewelry the blonde was wearing. She was giving him an odd look, and he quickly apologized.

"Uh, I mean, you said you were going to get some things. I didn't know you meant..." he gestured at her apparel and then cleared his throat awkwardly. "New look?"

The woman just blinked and started to brush past him. Confused, Locke grabbed her arm before she walked away.

"Yes, what is it?" she asked irritably.

Her normal Vectoran accent was replaced by a more refined Jidooran intonation. The thief tilted his head to one side as he looked into her blue eyes.

"Are you all right?"

"Well, of course not! The Wandering Gambler wants me for his wife, and he's going to ruin one of the biggest performances of my career!"

Locke's mouth hung open in bewilderment. "...what?"

The woman made a rude noise and turned to walk away, right into a nearly identical blonde.

"Oh, excuse..." Celes trailed off as she took in the sight.

The woman stared at her with wide eyes, and the general narrowed her own eyes.

"So one of us _isn't_ crazy..." Locke breathed in relief. "But wait... If you're Celes, then who are you?"

The woman held her fingertips to her chest saying, "Why, I'm Maria," as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"But of course you are," Locke said distractedly, turning to Celes. "Do you have a twin?"

"Not that I'm aware of," the general answered, eyeing Maria suspiciously.

"Ugh, if that'll be all," Maria said impatiently.

The look-alike tried to leave, but was once again held back by Locke.

"Hold on, Who's this wandering what's-his-face?"

Maria laughed before realizing Locke was serious. "Oh, you really haven't heard of him?"

"No."

"Oh... Setzer Gabbiani, notorious gambler and owner of the world's only airship. And a bloody scoundrel, if I ever saw one."

A thought struck Celes. "Wait... Airship?"

"Yes."

Celes and Locke exchanged looks.

((ooo))

"Guys, it's the perfect plan!" Locke persisted.

"Uh, except for the me not doing it!" Celes countered stubbornly.

"Celes, I think our favorite kleptomaniac here has a point," Edgar said, ignoring Locke's glare. "You may be our best chance at this, and you said it yourself: unless we want to swim, we need that airship."

"All you have to do is pose as Maria, sing a little song, let yourself be abducted by this Setzer character, and we'll be right behind you. You'll be perfectly safe!"

Celes waved her hand around. "Oh, I have no problem with the abduction part. It's the rest of it I have issues with. I just don't see why we can't follow Setzer and _Maria_ to the airship."

"Because then we'd have a civilian to worry about," Locke reasoned. "We don't know what this guy is like or what he'll do, and I think we'd all feel a lot better knowing _you_ would be able to take care of yourself."

"Locke, you're not seeing the big picture here! I wear a uniform and bark out orders to trained legions of men, not a frilly dress while singing!"

"But—"

"I'm a _general_, alright? I commanded the largest army in the world and elicited fear from every political leader around the globe!"

"And now?" Locke challenged quietly.

The former Imperial had no response.

"Miss Chere, I want nothing more than to perform," Maria assured. "But I simply cannot be taken by that...that rogue! And if you let me work with you, I'm sure we could make this work."

Despite the subtly doubtful undertone of Maria's plea, the men could see Celes' normally icy resolve turning to slush.

"It's not going to work," she nearly whined. They looked at her pleadingly, and Celes groaned. "...You owe me," she finally relented begrudgingly.

"Big time," Locke agreed. "Just don't worry about it. You'll be fine!"

Once Maria practically dragged Celes into dressing room, Sabin whispered to Locke, "Do you think she can pull it off?"

The thief breathed in and held it before answering. "Not a chance."

((ooo))

When the door finally opened hours later, the men unconsciously held their breaths in anticipation. The woman that stepped into view was dressed in an elaborate ball gown, the bodice fitted tightly around her slender waist, and the skirt rustling about her in a wide ring. The intricate embroidery, fine lace, and gentle tints of blushing beige and soothing smoky-blue was truly stunning. With a hint of color brushed across her pale features and her flaxen hair done up in a classic fashion, she held herself with an air of elegance and class that not even the noblest of the Imperial court could match; a true Jidooran aristocrat.

Locke sighed in disappointment. "Maria… Celes wouldn't go through with it, would she?"

An expression that could be construed as confusion passed over the soprano's face before quickly being replaced by a sad smile.

"Unconvincing."

Locke let out a long breath. "I'm sorry you have to be put in this position, Maria."

"The last thing we want is for you to be in danger," Edgar added.

"It is necessary," Maria said quietly.

"And Celes?" Locke wondered.

"She said she would remain backstage."

Sabin pounded his fist into his palm. "All right, let's do this!"

"Sabin, we have to sit through the opera, first," Edgar reminded.

The martial artist's face fell.


	11. Across the Stars

_Disclaimer: Is this really necessary? Do representatives of Square Enix actually surf the web looking for fanfics without disclaimers? Like anyone would claim ownership... Would they?_

_Ok, I didn't use Ultros because he's a giant purple octopus and a little too fantastical for my tastes. I did need someone to move the opera along, though, and came up with what I hope is an interesting alternative. Tell me what you think! C&C always welcome!_

Chapter Eleven: Across the Stars

A battered and worn warrior stumbled amidst the carnage of his comrades. Blood seeped from under his armor, and he collapsed to his knees with a deep pained sigh.

"Maria!"

The warrior glanced around the bloodied battlefield, and his resonating bass voice bewailed his grief.

"I have failed you, my love!"

The rustle of armor caught his attention as a small group of men of a different uniform came into view.

"Sir! A survivor of the West!" one shouted.

"Kill him!" another answered.

Even as his enemies raised their crossbows, snapping their bolts into place, the warrior remained on his knees and cried out to his love.

"Maria, how I long to be with you!"

The lights suddenly went out at the sharp clicks of crossbows, and the audience gasped. A prolonged silence reigned as the hero's fate was left to the imagination, until the voice of the narrator broke through.

"_The forces of the West fell,_

_and Maria's castle was taken._

_Prince Ralse, of the East, _

_took her hand by force,_

_but she never stopped yearning for Draco..."_

The sounds of a brief struggle were discerned from beyond the darkened set, and a light harp melody drifted up from the orchestra pit. A soft blue glow illuminated the stage, revealing the set of a castle balcony under the night sky. The patrons were startled by an angry bellow and the desperate footsteps echoing through the castle corridor, and a tear-stricken Maria ran into view, stopping only when she reached the stone rail. Her heavy breathing of sorrow and despair was a stark contrast to the gentle plucking of the harp, but when the airy phrase paused, Maria took a breath, and let it out in a sweet melody.

"_Oh my hero, so far away now. Will I ever see your smile? Love goes away, like night into day. It's just a fading dream."_

At the sound of Maria's haunting voice, Sabin stilled his restless fidgeting, and all three men sat enraptured.

"_I'm the darkness, you're the stars. Our love is brighter than the sun. For eternity, for me there can be, only you, my chosen one..."_

Each wrestled with the uncanny resemblance between the soprano and their companion, finding it difficult to make the distinction. The absolute clarity of her tone rang throughout the hall, touching every man and woman present and giving them a cathartic peace.

Except Locke.

The thief sunk down into his seat, more than a little disturbed by the lyrics and the images they were inducing. He bit back tears at the lyrical emotion, the utter anguish and emptiness Maria was expressing, suddenly wishing he had never come up with this plan. His own grief burned as the hole in his despondent heart was ripped open anew.

"_Must I forget you? Our solemn promise? Will autumn take the place of spring? What shall I do? I'm lost without you. Speak to me once more!"_

Maria absently fingered the pendant around her neck, and the strings continued their melodious waves. She lifted her head at a whisper of her name and turned to find the source. On the third step leading to the upper terrace, a single white rose glowed in the moonlight. Reverently, she picked it up and ascended the stairs to look out over the eastern kingdom. Her dreamy expression soon transformed into a cringe, though, when a servant called to her from within the castle. Staring at the rose, a glaze came over Maria's face as her decision was made.

"_We must part now, my life goes on. But my heart won't give you up. Ere I walk away, let me hear you say I meant as much to you..."_

The orchestra swelled as Maria cast the rose into the darkened abyss below in a final surrender to reality. Her voice soared with impossible emotion in the closing phrase, proclaiming her undying love for her hero, before fading away in the dimming lights.

"_So gently, you touched my heart. I will be forever yours. Come what may, I won't age a day, I'll wait for you, always..."_

The occasional sniffle was heard from the audience during the brief scene change. The strings began a playful waltz, and the lights shone down on the castle's ballroom, where couples danced in celebration of their prince's betrothal.

Edgar's attention drifted, and something caught his eye. "Hey, what is that up there?"

"Where?" Sabin asked.

"In the rafters?"

Through the diffuse light, they just could make out the silhouette of a shadowy figure making his way to the beam just above center stage.

"I think that's our guy," Locke guessed.

Sabin stared intently at the form. "Wait... Something seems...off."

When the mysterious figure reached its destination, a shaft of light streaked across its face. It took him a moment, but Sabin recognized the man.

"Ziegfried!"

Locke and Edgar looked at the younger Figaro brother. "Siegfried?"

"No, _Ziegfried_!" Sabin tried to clarify. "He poses as the blade master, Siegfried, but really he's just a petty thief. A wimpy one, at that."

Offended by the thief comment, Locke coughed, but it went disregarded.

"So, what's he doing here?" Edgar wondered.

The three men followed the imposter's gaze down to the stage, where Maria and Ralse were waltzing.

"You don't think he's..."

"Pretending to be Setzer?" Sabin finished for his brother.

"So, this is the part where we foil his evil scheme, right?" Locke assumed.

Below them, a guard ran onstage, crying, "Sire! The survivors of the West attack!"

"Impossible!" Ralse growled, abruptly letting go of Maria.

"Sire, we must get you and the lady to—"

"_Attack!"_

The shout came from offstage, and a small band of men charged the stage, engaging in battle with the Eastern soldiers. Maria, joyous at the assault by her countrymen, tried to edge away from Ralse to escape. The prince, however, noticed this and grabbed her arm, pulling her violently back to him.

"No, Maria!" he snapped. "You belong to me now."

"_No!"_

The cry reverberated through the hall. A chocobo galloped across the stage, and a man in heavy armor jumped off as it passed Maria and Ralse. After landing hard on the ground, the warrior slowly rose and stepped forward, gazing upon Maria. His deep voice boomed through the hall, declaring his relief at finally seeing his love once more.

"Maria!"

The soprano broke from Ralse and took a step towards her love. "Draco!" she sang, throwing herself into his arms as she continued. "I've waited so long. I knew you'd come!"

The audience could see the anger swell up in Ralse as he watched this reunion between lovers. He shoved Draco back, forcing the two apart. He challenged the bass singer with his own tenor voice, jerking Maria by the arm back to his side.

"Maria is already my queen! She is no longer yours, but my trophy to bear."

The hero ignored the prince and held out his hand to Maria, gently pulling her from Ralse's grip. "I have traveled across the stars for you! For the rest of my life I will keep you near!"

Lifting her chin with two fingers, Draco lowered his head and tenderly kissed Maria's lips, bringing the audience to tears.

Ralse, infuriated, drew his rapier, bellowing, "It's a duel, then!"

Breaking from his love, Draco glared at Ralse. He stepped forward to place himself between Maria and the prince, drawing his sword.

"Stand back, Maria, and I will rid us of this ­letch!"

"Be careful, my love!" she pleaded.

As the two actors dueled, the three Returners traversed the maze of narrow wooden beams. When they finally reached Ziegfried, Sabin called out, but not loud enough to disturb the performance below.

"Hey, Ziggy! Don't you learn?"

The man turned. "Fools! I have been training under the best. I could kill you all with my little finger!"

"You really need a thrashing," Sabin challenged.

"Careful, Sabin," Edgar warned. "Not here."

"Ha ha haaa!" Ziegfried laughed. "The tall one is right to fear me!"

"You little twerp!"

Without thinking, Sabin rushed the phony swordsman, even while Edgar tried to hold him back. Locke watched in dread as the three men teetered dangerously on the edge of the rafter directly above Maria. Acting quickly, the thief leapt off the plank and grasped a rope counter-weighted by sandbags. He landed behind Maria and pulled her out of the way a second before the tangle of men tumbled down to the stage where she had just been standing.

"You all right?" he asked her immediately.

The soprano, her face pale, looked at the men, then up to the rafters, then back at Locke.

"Yes," she breathed. "Thank you."

The audience was silent at first, then slowly began murmuring its confusion at the unexpected turn of events.

"What the hell are you doing?" Ralse whispered harshly.

Locke knew he had to cover his appearance quickly. He took a step forward and spoke in his most chivalrous voice.

"Lord Draco! I've come to take fair Maria to safety."

Maria shot him a brief but questioning glance, but he just gave her a slight shrug.

Draco was perplexed, but being the actor he was, tried to improvise along with the thief. "What has happened?"

Locke's mind was racing to come up with an explanation. "…If you recall my lord, it is because the evil warlord Ziegfried is planning on abducting Maria...and killing her."

"The evil warlord…Ziegfried," Draco repeated uncertainly.

"My companions and I attempted to hold him off, but as you can see, he nearly slipped past us."

The odd threesome finally began getting to their feet, and Draco looked to Maria for some clue as to what was going on, but she just sent him a small look encouraging him to go with it.

"Go, then…friend…" Draco hesitated, but his normal bravado was returning as he continued, "and fight this…vile brute who dares to threaten my love!"

"Silence, you ruffians!" Ziegfried screeched, getting absorbed into the role himself. "You are in the presence of royalty!"

Locke raised an eyebrow at the peculiar man and the grand sweeping of his arms, but turned back to Maria.

"Fear not, my lady, for as soon as we dispatch this slime, you will be taken to safety."

Ralse, knowing he, too, had to stay in character, interjected. "I would not allow a swine like you to lay a hand on _my_ queen. Lord Ziegfried, take care of them immediately!"

"Of course, Prince Ralse," the 'warlord' responded.

Locke drew his dirk, Edgar his sword, and Sabin readied his claws. The three rushed Ziegfried from all sides, and the mêlée began. For his part, Ziegfried managed to dodge the attacks of his opponents, but the clash was short and sweet. Sabin nicked him with his claws, and the charlatan decided to flee.

"Well, uh, I'll just be going now. But you haven't seen the last of me!" he assured unconvincingly. "And, Maria, I just want to show you my gratitude for such a lovely performance…"

Ziegfried drew a small knife from his robes and threw it at her, not even sticking around to see if he succeeded in hitting his target. Locke tried to reach her, but he knew he wouldn't make it in time and mentally cursed himself. Seeing Maria flinch, he winced in anticipating of the iron biting through flesh, but it never came. Instead, murmurs arose from both the audience and from the actors onstage, and when Locke looked up, he saw the impossible: the knife caught in the soprano's hand inches from her face: _very_ un-Maria like.

Locke's eyes widened. "Celes…?" he whispered.

Kicking herself for the exposure of her identity, the imposter soprano knew needed to draw attention away from her inexplicable reflex, so she did the only thing she could think of.

She fainted.

Locke, close to her now, was quick to act, catching Celes before she hit the ground and trying desperately to hide his amusement at her choice of action.

"Maria!" Draco cried, trying to stay in character. He was about to rush to her side, but a voice stopped him.

"Hold on, there, Drake!"

The lights dimmed unexpectedly, and a spotlight hit the stage, illuminating only Celes and Locke. A figure dropped from the rafters behind them and shoved the thief out of the way, his face concealed in darkness.

"Bravo! I love these kinds of shenanigans!" the man exclaimed.

"Setzer—!"

The gambler cut the Impresario off. "I'm a man of my word, opera boy." He lifted the 'unconscious' woman into his arms. "And now I gotta fly."

Setzer pushed a control on the rope he descended on, causing the cable to lift him and his captive back up through the skylight to his airship. When the technicians finally got the lights back on, the Returners were nowhere in sight.


	12. Shadow

_Disclaimer: For the non-last time, no, I don't own it._

_Ok. So if you're a Buffy the Vampire Slayer fan, you'll see that something Celes says is adapted from a line Cordelia has in the first season, and I just couldn't resist using it here. Despite the chapter's title, this has nothing to do with our favorite assassin, but it does set up the first critical turning point coming up in the next chapter. Thanks as always for reviewing!_

Chapter Twelve: Shadow

"Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you're going to start. I don't want to hear it!"

Locke, Edgar, and Sabin all exchanged knowing grins, but didn't say a word. Inevitably, however, Locke broke down laughing.

"Damn, you're good."

Celes groaned in exasperation, but the floodgate of praise had opened.

"I had no idea it was you."

"I can't believe you actually sang!"

"In public!"

"In a dress!"

"And that faint! It was classic!"

"Enough already!" She practically growled. "If you tell _anyone_ about this, I will make your deaths last a week."

The men fell silent, but failed miserably at hiding their smiles.

"…The ribbon suits you," Locke dared comment before ducking away from her stony glare.

Sabin choked back his laughter. "So where's lover boy?"

Celes shrugged. "Getting this thing in the air. He'll be back any minute."

"What's the plan?" Locke asked.

"I feel physical violence is appropriate," she said with a slight grin.

"Ok, but you may want to let us handle that," Locke began, slowly breaking into a fit of chuckles, "because you're not very intimidating in that dress."

"Then you obviously underestimate the power of my icy stare."

The complete lack of malice behind the remark made Locke smile fondly at the general. He was happy to see that she was starting to lighten up and managing to be in good spirits, even after her necessary performance. Her attention was elsewhere, though, because at that moment, Setzer entered the room, his expression turning to bewilderment at the sight of the three unfamiliar men.

"Setzer Gabbiani," Celes addressed.

The silver-haired gambler turned to her to speak, but after a slight hesitation, tilted his head to one side when the Vectoran accent registered with him.

"You're not Maria."

He spoke calmly, looking inquisitive rather than angry as he tried to puzzle something out. He gave Celes an innocent once-over, taking in her confident stance and the subtle muscular undertone gracing her figure.

"Miss Chere, I presume?" Celes seemed surprised, but Setzer continued. "I've heard of the resemblance, but never truly believed it. Of course, I've also never had the pleasure of meeting your acquaintance."

Celes was utterly thrown. Of all scenarios, this was not at all what she had expected.

"Now, seeing as how you know who I am, and I know who you are, would you mind explaining what a general of the Empire is doing on my airship, posing as an opera diva no less?"

However baffled Celes was, she recovered quickly. "My presence is required on the Imperial Continent as soon as possible."

"And you were expecting a ride."

"Yes."

"Then why the big charade?" he wondered. "Why not just ask, or better yet, threaten like a normal Imperial officer?"

"Mr. Gabbiani, you're a smuggler, not only for the Empire, but for other organizations not loyal to His Majesty. Do you really expect me to believe you would sit back and allow your airship to be boarded by an Imperial entourage?"

Setzer smiled. "You're absolutely right." Celes smiled triumphantly. "You're also absolutely bluffing." Her face fell. "You may be the Queen, Miss Chere, but I'm still the King, and I will trump your hand every time."

Locke leaned over and whispered to Celes, "Is this where the physical violence comes in?"

She ignored the thief. "You have to admit that was pretty convincing."

The gambler nodded. "And bonus points for your earlier performance. So truly now, what are you and your three questionable companions doing on my airship?"

Edgar stepped forward. "Mr. Gabbiani, I am King Edgar of Figaro. This is my brother, Sabin, and an associate of mine, Locke Cole. Allow me to explain..."

Setzer led them to the lounge where they could sit comfortably—Celes a little less than comfortable in the dress—and Edgar laid out their situation. The gambler listened patiently and attentively, and, when the king finished, leaned back thoughtfully.

"So let me see if I understand this. Not only do you want me to transport a small group of Returners to the Imperial Capital, which has made me a rich man, mind you, but you want me to lend aid to a wanted traitor to said capital, so that you can break into the highest level security facility on the face of the planet to find a mystical beast-slash-stone that will help this woman, your friend, whom I've never met. Is that about right?"

"...Yes."

"I see. And, why should I feel compelled to do this?"

"Out of the goodness of your heart?" Locke prompted.

"Or the greed for Figaro's reward?" Edgar followed dryly.

Sabin put in his suggestion. "How about so you don't make Celes cranky?"

Setzer nodded and hummed a bit to himself. "All _mostly_ valid points..."

When it was clear the man would need further convincing, Edgar withdrew a coin from his pocket. "You're a gambling man, Setzer."

"That I am."

"How about we let Fate decide?" Sabin gave his brother a funny look, but said nothing. "Heads, you help us and receive nothing but our gratitude. Tails..."

Celes had been watching Edgar during the negotiation, specifically the coin he was turning between his fingers. When the king paused without a counter-offer, she stepped in.

"I'll call in a favor and set you up with Maria, and we walk away."

Setzer's interest peaked at the proposal, and took only a moment to consider it.

"Deal."

Now Locke looked at Celes curiously, but she merely sent him a tiny smirk. Both Edgar and Setzer stood up, and the king flipped the coin, letting it land on the floor between them.

"Heads it is," Edgar called. "I win."

The gambler bent down and picked up the coin, turning it over in his hand. He began shaking his head with a low chuckle.

"A two-headed coin... How low can you get?"

"_That_ coin?" Sabin asked in disdain.

Edgar just winked at his brother.

Setzer ginned. "Ha! Alright, unfair is fair. I'll do it. I just have one question." He turned to Celes. "Would you really have been able to get Maria to go on a date with me?"

Celes shrugged. "Well, she does owe me for taking her place in your little abduction scheme, but...no, probably not."

"And you pull an Ace from up your sleeve..." He laughed heartily, flipping the coin back to Edgar. "I love it! Alright, my life is a chip in your pile."

The king pocketed the coin. "We're in your debt."

Celes stood up, still a bit awkward in the large folds of fabric. "Setzer, could I commandeer your room for just a moment?"

"By all means."

"Much appreciated... One of you has my clothes, right?" she asked, turning to the others. "I asked Maria to stick them in one of your packs during the opera."

Sabin rummaged through his stuff, found the articles of clothing, and handed the bundle to Celes. Once she disappeared into the sleeping quarters, Setzer excused himself to the deck to change their course. The three Returners got up to join him, but stopped when Celes opened the door back into the lounge.

"Um..."

"What is it, Cel?" Locke called.

"I..." Her tone dropped to a quiet mutter. "I can't undo my corset."

With a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, Locke wordlessly followed her into the other room. For the first half-minute, the two were silent as he worked at the lacing on the back of her dress.

Finally, Locke spoke. "You really were great."

"Yeah, yeah. Just remember you're a dead man if you ever speak of this."

He spared a small chuckle. "To tell you the truth, I didn't think you'd be able to do it."

"Neither did I. Gods, I'm glad that's over."

He sent her a charming lopsided grin. "Oh, come on, admit it. You had fun."

"Hardly."

His goofy smirk faded, his hands stilled, and he become unexpectedly serious. "You really came through, though. Terra must mean a lot to you..."

Celes was quiet, but after a moment, she looked over her shoulder at the thief, and their eyes met.

"Locke."

It came out barely above a whisper, and the thief leaned just a fraction of an inch closer.

"Yeah?"

"..."

It took him a while, but it finally dawned on Locke that his hand was resting on her bare shoulder. Realizing Celes' discomfort, he sheepishly removed his hand and cleared his throat. Apologizing softly, he turned away from her to hide the blush creeping up his neck into his cheeks.

"Well, you, uh, should be good to go, so I'll just, uh, head upstairs," he said awkwardly.

He left quickly, and Celes turned back to her belongings without giving him a second thought. Within the bundle of clothing, she found her pack of various objects and proceeded to dump out its contents in desperate search of her brush, then hesitated...

((ooo))

Locke's arrival on deck came in the middle of a conversation between the brothers and the gambler.

"Come on, really now," Setzer pressed.

"Setzer, we told you. She's helping us keep Terra safe so we have a chance against the Empire," Edgar insisted.

Setzer laughed hoarsely. "Right."

"What're you guys talking about?" Locke asked. He was ignored.

"Sorry to burst your bubbles, gentlemen, but Celes Chere does not aid the Returners to hurt the Empire."

Sabin shook his head. "But, she—"

"She's an Imperial general," the gambler interrupted. "Those people don't switch loyalties on a gold piece."

The younger Figaro tried to make sense of it. "She fought Kefka—"

"You didn't know? Kefka turned on her," Setzer revealed. "He couldn't kill her outright, so he set her up to fall from grace. She was betrayed."

The crestfallen look on the martial artist's face spoke his disbelief. "How do you know this?"

"I occasionally have a friendly game of poker with a few Imperials, and after a couple drinks, you'd be amazed the things they let slip. I even heard Gestahl was going to name Leo his heir, then offer him Celes' hand in marriage so they could rule together. But that's just a rumor."

Now, Locke almost wished he hadn't come up when he did. "Why...why would she hide this?"

Setzer shrugged. "Maybe the general isn't all she seems."

This time, Locke shook his head. "No. I won't believe that."

"Yeah," Sabin followed. "She's helping us."

"For Terra's benefit," Setzer agreed. "But what happens after that?"

Neither Locke nor Sabin had an answer. Edgar had stayed strangely quiet for most of the discussion, and remained so. The gambler put up his hands.

"Hey, I didn't mean to bring you all down like this, I just didn't think you guys should follow her so ignorant of an Imperial's nature."

"I won't believe it..." Locke said quietly, his conviction withering.

Despite their best efforts to ignore what Setzer had said, a shadow had been inexorably cast over their already fragile trust.

((ooo))

Celes stood staring at two items that fell out of her pack, her brush momentarily forgotten. One was the ice pendant Terra had given her for her sixteenth birthday before she had become general. The other was the silver band once set in her upper ear before her arrest. Pensively, she switched her gaze between the two, memories flooding her thoughts unbidden. Closing her eyes, she let out a sigh, a shadow of nameless doubt crossing her mind.

_In this world, nothing is what it seems._


	13. Devil's Workshop

_Disclaimer: I own the character Brandt, but that's just about it._

_After rereading this chapter and some of the previous ones, I realized that Edgar comes off as kind of an ass. Rest assured, it's not that I don't like Edgar, it's just his concern for the Returner cause that colors his attitude towards Celes. He'll come around. Finally, a relatively long chapter! And they'll stay longer, I promise._

Chapter Thirteen: Devil's Workshop

Celes gazed pensively across the waters. In the distance, the spire of the Imperial Fortress peeked over the horizon, and the body of the iron and bronze giant rose up with it. Columns of smoke lifted into the atmosphere from the many of Vector's industrial factories, casting a dull haze over the Vectoran plains. Even as far away as Albrook, the fortress searchlights could be seen sweeping across the capital and surrounding lands.

She remembered her ten-month trek across the Imperial continent—her first campaign as general—and how she had welcomed the sight of the colossal palaceupon her return. She remembered the intense pride she had felt as she rode through the city gates beside Leo and Kefka, successful in their quests. The sun had shone down on the rolling green plains, the eagle had cried out its majesty, and the generals had been exalted for their triumphs.

"So that's home, huh?"

Celes' reverie shattered at Locke's voice, and she was brought back into the gray, smoggy present. Setzer had landed the airship a couple miles outside of Albrook, not wanting to attract the attention of either the occupied city or the Imperial capital.

"Yeah, I guess," she responded distractedly.

The thief walked to her side. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine."

Locke watched her carefully. "Celes, why are you doing this? If someone recognizes you—"

"It doesn't matter."

"It matters to me!"

Celes turned to him. "Why? Why does it matter?"

"We've gone over this—"

"No, tell me why."

"I promised to keep you safe. I don't go back on that!"

"Locke, it's fine if you feel you have to try to protect me; I don't care either way. But there are some things you can't protect me from."

He met her gaze, surprised at the gentleness in her voice. "…I just don't think it's a good idea for you to go back."

"To Vector? Locke, I know the place inside and out."

"Yeah, I'm sure you do…"

Something about the way he said it seemed odd to Celes. She tilted her head when the realization dawned on her.

"You don't trust me…"

"I thought you said in Narshe you didn't want us to trust you," Locke countered quietly.

The general opened her mouth to say something, but she hesitated. "…Yeah, I did."

The thief remained quiet with his words. "Do you want me to trust you?"

Locke kicked himself for personalizing the query, but Celes hadn't been listening, rather lost in thought for a moment.

"What?"

"I said, do you want…us…to trust you?" he repeated, rewording carefully.

Celes had no response, and they held each other's gaze, searching for some clue as to what the other was thinking.

Setzer tactfully cleared his throat. "Edgar wants to know if you guys are ready to go."

Celes was the first to break eye contact. "Yeah, we're ready."

((ooo))

Leaving Setzer with the airship, the four made their way to Albrook to pick up any last minute supplies before their hike to Vector. The men noticed a slight apprehension arise in Celes as they neared the port city, and she drew up her hood to hide her face.

The group was ignored by the Imperials for the most part. If they gave any interest at all, it was for Celes, for one reason or another. It wasn't until they were about to leave the city that they were actually stopped by an Imperial sentry.

"And where are you gentlemen headed?"

"Our hometown, just a few miles west of here," Edgar replied.

The sentry narrowed his eyes. "Really. And which town would that be?"

"Laurel," Celes answered softly.

The guard lifted an eyebrow at the young woman, but she kept her head lowered.

"Heh, who's your friend?" he asked, reaching to pull back Celes' hood.

"Hey!" Sabin batted away his hand. "That's not very polite," the martial artist reprimanded.

The grunt reached for his sword. "I'll teach you polite—"

"Jameson!" a voice barked. "What did I tell you about harassing civilians?"

The man withered under the glare of the newly arrived officer. "Sorry, sir."

"Don't apologize to me."

Jameson bit back a growl and apologized to Celes and Sabin.

"Get back to your post," the officer ordered. "And you four, come with me."

Strangely, he led them into a nearby alley. When he was sure they were out of sight, he took off his helmet.

"Celes, what are you doing here?"

The three Returners exchanged nervous glances, and Celes tilted her head in surprise.

"Brandt?"

He gave her a small smile. "You shouldn't be here. The Imperials are tearing the world apart looking for you with orders to kill you on sight."

"I'm aware," she muttered, pulling back her hood. "Don't worry about why I'm here. What happened to you? Last I heard, Kefka had ordered the deaths of those closest to me in South Figaro."

"He did. General Leo came into port just in time…for most of us…"

"Baxter?"

Brandt nodded sadly, and Celes lowered her head.

"When Kefka couldn't kill me, he decided to have me demoted instead. I'm still trying to figure out which is worse," he joked.

"Well, I'm glad you're all right."

"You too. Now get out of here before someone else recognizes you!"

Celes put a hand on Brandt's shoulder. "Thank you."

"Take care, Celes." Brandt put his helmet back on and disappeared around the corner.

"What the hell was that?"

The starkness of Edgar's question startled her. "What? It was nothing. Look, we're never going to get through this if you don't trust me!"

"You mean trust you while you fraternize with your old buddies?"

Sabin tried to intercede. "Brother…"

"He was a friend," Celes insisted. "One of the few people who stayed loyal to me when—" she cut herself off abruptly.

"When what?"

"Forget it."

Scarcely a word was spoken between the four as they made their way across the Vectoran plains towards the capital. Celes had them veer off to take a less direct approach, dodging the searchlights and occasional scout crafts buzzing overhead. When they reached the outer wall surrounding the city, they stayed in its shadow until they were within sight of the guards at the main gates.

Celes motioned for the guys to stay behind her. They watched curiously as she knelt down and put her hands to the ground. The earth under her froze, and a trail of ice skimmed the surface of the dirt, stalking directly towards the sentries. The ice branched off to each one, and when it reached the guards, it erupted from the ground in deadly spikes, killing them instantly.

Celes looked back at her companions. "Let's go."

Except for the few Imperial patrols scattered throughout the city, the streets were deserted. Houses and buildings were boarded up, either destroyed by fire or abandoned. Every once in a while, a stray dog or cat could be seen scampering down an alley or slinking in the shadows. They passed by the ruins of a once beautiful cathedral, the remains of the white marble charred and crumbling.

Sabin paused in front of it. "What happened?"

Celes hesitated briefly mid-step, but continued walking. "It was burned to the ground during the Purging of Vector almost two years ago."

The martial artist sprinted to catch up with her. "Purging of Vector?"

"Result of Gestahl's paranoia. It was his way of weeding out the nonconformists."

"Ah."

After nearly an hour of traversing the city's maze-like streets, they came within sight of their goal.

"So what's the plan?" Locke asked. "Unless you were thinking of just walking through the front door."

Celes spared a small chuckle. "I wish it was that easy. No, we go up."

With the help of a rope and Edgar's crossbow, the group scaled the eastern outer wall of the fortress, taking care to stay out of view of the guards and searchlights. A few well-aimed arrows from the crossbow took down the Imperials closest to them with hardly a sound.

"We have to move quickly," Celes whispered. "It won't be long before someone notices the missing sentries."

Keeping low, they made their way to the door that led directly into the research facility. Failing to notice the security camera trained on her position, Celes swiped the access card—taken from one of the guards—in the control panel, and the door slid open.

"Well, that was easy," Locke said.

Celes was less enthused. "Yeah…"

She chose not to mention the fact that it should have been next to impossible to breach the facility, and the thought nagged at her relentlessly.

When they entered, they found themselves on a catwalk above the factory where Magitek was integrated into various weaponry, including M-Tek Armors. A team of scientists was busy below, oblivious to the intruders through the noise of the many machines working their wiles.

"We need to get to the labs," Celes told the men. "They're on the other side of the facility, and getting there won't exactly be simple."

Directly under them, a conveyor belt ran perpendicular, transporting an assortment of parts to the lower level. Celes motioned for the three to follow her, hoping they would do so without question. She climbed over the rail of the catwalk and dropped down onto the conveyor belt, Locke, Sabin, and Edgar soon behind her. Riding it to the bottom, Celes jumped off and moved to the wall, walking cautiously along it until coming to a yellow door. It hissed open on its own, and the four slipped inside.

The room within was relatively small, with only a single computer console and a circular impression cut into the metal floor.

"Celes, where are we?" Sabin wondered.

"The garbage chute."

"Oh, great."

"It's the only way we can get to the lab wing without being detected," she explained, walking over to the computer.

Locke crouched next to the closed chute, inspecting the pie-sectioned surface a foot below and seeing a small screen on the rim across the way that read zero.

"Locke, don't get too close," Celes called.

Ignoring her warning, Locke hopped down, watching as the number on the screen rose to sixty-six point eight kilograms.

"Hey, look, it's weighing me!"

"Locke, get out of there!" Celes shouted.

An instant later, the floor opened up, and Locke barely grabbed onto the ledge to keep from falling into the pit. Looking down, he saw streams of fire blazing horizontally. Celes held back a bitter chuckle as the thief fought in blind panic to pull himself up. When he finally clambered back onto the platform, he was met with a skeptical glance with a ghost of a smirk.

"…Graceful."

"Shut up. I could've been killed, you know."

"All the more reason for you to _listen_ to me. The trap door is on a pressure switch, and I have to shut off the incineration cycle before we go in."

Locke grinned sheepishly. "Oops."

"Curiosity killed the thief," Edgar teased.

"Hey!"

Before an argument could break out, Celes intervened. "Gentlemen, please. The more you bicker, the greater the chance we have of being caught. Now stop distracting me." She worked her way into the computer system and shut off the incinerator. "_Now_ we can go."

By the time all four dropped into the chute, it had cooled to a tolerable temperature. Celes led them northwest through the slightly complicated underground network of separate trash compartments until they were under the laboratories. A single conveyor belt draining into the room was the only way out.

A snarl came from the shadows. "Humans?"

The men reached for their weapons, but Celes stopped them.

"Careful, Ifrit," a female voice warned. "These aren't just ordinary humans."

From the darkness emerged a large creature with a fiery mane. "They possess magicite?" the beast growled.

The woman, blue from head to toe, came into view. "Among other things."

Celes took a small step forward, her manner suddenly subservient. "Shiva..."

The men had never seen the general so humbled by another's presence. The Esper of ice looked upon the men with disdain, but upon Celes with a measure of respect, affection even.

"Child. I told you we would meet again."

"Why are you down here?"

"The professor feels we have surpassed our usefulness."

"You're dying…?"

"I will soon leave this world and return to the eternal realm of my kin, as will my brother," she added with a nod to Ifrit.

"I'm sorry," Celes whispered.

"It works out for the best." Celes quirked a brow, eliciting an explanation. "The scientist has yet to learn of magicite. If we had not been discarded, I fear what could have resulted… Time is running out. Not just for us, but for all Espers."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Awaken the Angel of Hope. For now, this is her time."

"But—"

Shiva shook her head. "The time for your choice will come, Child. Until then, let the purity of the diamond dust guide you."

"You're giving yourself to these _humans_?" Ifrit asked angrily.

"I trust no human with my powers," Shiva hissed back. She turned and met Celes' gaze. "Except one. My power is yours, Child, as it always has been."

The ice goddess held up her hand, and Celes hesitantly, reverently, reached out with her own. Fingers touched, palms pressed together, and the general's eyes closed of their own accord as a chill ran through her. Her mouth hung slightly open and she seemed to pant from the simple contact, while the others looked on in perplexed concern.

Shiva, too, closed her eyes in concentration, and a soft light arose from their now interlocking hands, suddenly growing into a blinding flash. When it subsided, the icy deity no longer stood before them, but was rather replaced by a familiar pendant glowing faintly in Celes' hand. The general was still for a moment, seemingly frozen in place, until she began to sink to the ground. Locke caught her from behind and eased her down slowly, holding her protectively against his chest. Her breaths were heavy and ragged, and her eyes were glazed.

"Wow," she breathed.

The thief glanced down at her worriedly, but said nothing. Celes stared at the object in her hand through slightly unfocused eyes, and when it looked as though she was slipping back into whatever euphoria she had felt, Locke lightly shook her by the shoulders to get her attention.

"Celes!"

Her eyes snapped open and stared directly into his, her focus slowly returning.

"Sorry. That was just…powerful…" Celes finished in a whisper.

As soon as she appeared recovered, Locke put an arm around her waist and helped her to her feet.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Locke. You can let go now."

"You sure?"

"Let go, please!" she pleaded almost urgently.

"Alright! Don't get so excited!"

"Locke, being held by you is _not_ what I'd call a thrill."

"Sorry." The thief gently fingered the pendant in her hand. "So what is it?"

"A rose bud inside an ice crystal molded from Shiva's essence. Terra gave it to me for my sixteenth birthday."

"And now it's magicite?"

"I guess."

Ifrit sighed. "My sister trusts you with it… I suppose I must as well. Save our friends, and they will add their power to yours."

Another light flashed, and a glowing crimson rock lay where the fire-Esper once stood. Sabin bent down to pick it up but recoiled when his fingers were burned, forcing him to wait a minute before he could pick up the still-warm stone.

A warning buzz sounded, and red lights flashed.

Locke looked around. "What the hell is that?"

"The incinerator!" Celes cried. "We have to get out of here!"

"How?"

"Up the conveyor belt, go!"

They made a run for it, climbing onto the moving line and struggling against its downward flow. Just as Locke scrambled up the last few feet and out of the chute, the panels below opened, releasing the scorching flames once again.

"That was close," he breathed.

Celes looked over her companions. "Everyone all right?"

"I think so."

Edgar looked at the magicite Sabin still held in his hand. "What was that all about down there, Celes? 'Your choice?'"

She turned away. "It's not important."

"Who's this Angel of Hope?" Sabin asked curiously.

Celes was silent for a moment. "…Terra."

Before more questions could arise, Celes walked out of the room into the laboratories beyond. Edgar, Locke, and Sabin traded glances before silently following the general. The three shuddered as they passed empty glass capsules, examination tables rigged with restraints, and bulky machines with large needles attached to them. Vials of various-colored fluids lined shelf after shelf, and indescribable instruments were laid out on trays scattered throughout the lab. Passing through a door, they came into a long corridor lined with occupied glass tubes.

"Are these the Espers?" Sabin asked quietly.

"What's left of them," Celes answered.

A figure in a lab coat ran towards them. "Hey, you can't be here! This is a restricted area. You have to leave."

With a sigh of regret, Edgar reluctantly took out his auto-crossbow and aimed it at the scientist. Just as he was about to fire, Celes' hand clamped around the mechanism. The king sent her a questioning glance, and she shook her head in warning.

"Celes?" the scientist called.

She turned to him. "Professor."

"Thank the gods you're safe!" He drew her into a brief hug, and Celes surprised her companions by returning the gesture. "What are you doing here?"

"Helping a friend."

"Celes, don't you know how dangerous it is—"

"Yes, Cid," she interrupted, "and we don't have a lot of time."

Cid debated his situation. A convicted traitor had broken into the Empire's most secretive facility, but that traitor was Celes, the closest thing he had to a daughter. His deliberation was short-lived.

"What do you need?"

Celes faltered. "I…I-I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

She looked over her shoulder at her companions for support, and Cid followed her gaze, wondering what the young woman had gotten herself into.

"I just can't."

"But Celes…"

Cid trailed off, the pendant around Celes' neck catching his eye. He recognized it, but he didn't recall it having such a strong glow.

"What's that?"

Celes instinctively reached for the pendant.

"The necklace Terra gave you?" Cid pondered. "There's something different about it…"

"Cid…"

A bright flash off to the side drew their attention. One of the capsules was now empty, a glowing rock replacing the creature that once inhabited the space. Cid adjusted his glasses and walked up to the shell.

"My word…"

Celes cursed under her breath. She looked back at the Returners and knew they were thinking the same thing: Cid could not be allowed to figure out what had happened. Remorsefully, Celes came up behind the professor, apologizing quietly before running her elbow into the back of his neck. She caught him as he slumped down, unconscious, and dragged him to his nearby desk chair.

A voice entered their minds, strong but gentle. _"You want to help us…?"_

Other than Celes, who was occupied with Cid, Edgar was the first to recover from the initial shock of the Esper's telepathic communication.

"Yes. And we want you to help our friend."

"_Then we will join Ramuh and the others before us."_

Every Esper in the lab abandoned its corporeal form, leaving only a gleaming stone in its place. Celes turned her attention to Cid's computer. After typing in a command, the glass shields lifted from their place, allowing the other three to collect the shards.

When Celes turned from the computer, she saw a painfully familiar figure standing before one of the capsules, his hands folded casually behind his back as he examined the shimmering stone.

"Welcome home, Celes."

He turned around, a giant grin plastered across his face, and Celes took a step back.

"Kefka."

"Oh, don't look so surprised, Celes. You don't think I knew you'd come here? Why do you think it was so easy for you to get in?"

The former general found her bravado. "Well, I just figured your arrogance had made you grow lax in security."

"Ha! Talk about arrogant! You're the one who has grown sloppy, Celes. I remember a time when you were great, and I actually admired you back then. But now, what, you're trying to take the 'moral highroad?'" He scoffed. "You know as well as I do that can't last."

Celes sensed Locke and the brothers come up beside her, but she said nothing.

"Did you tell them, Celes? The truth about South Figaro?"

Celes glanced at her companions, but still no words would come to her own defense.

"No, of course you didn't. The truth would give them reason not to trust you, wouldn't it? Would make them wonder how they allowed an Imperial general into their midst, one who would just as soon see them dead."

"Celes…?"

The woman winced. Even in that single word, she could hear Locke's uncertainty surface.

"Or perhaps that's already an issue," Kefka gloated. "Well, no matter, because you'll all be dead anyway! But first, you have something I want. The Espers."

Celes stepped between Kefka and the Returners. "Take me to the emperor."

Kefka looked at her in surprise. "What?"

"Celes, what are you doing?" Locke whispered fearfully.

Kefka was still unsure he understood. "You…you're surrendering yourself to me?"

"Take me and let them go."

The Imperial looked incredulously at the blonde, then laughed. "Oh, you are good."

"Come on, think about it, Kefka. What'll make you look better: three rebels and some rocks? Or the Imperial traitor?"

"Celes, don't do this," Locke pleaded.

Kefka stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I can't say I'm not intrigued… And I suppose you won't let me have both… Oh, Celes, this is so _you._ Alright, I'll take you to the emperor…with your head on a silver platter." He chuckled. "And I'll even allow the Returners out of the city before I hunt them down like dogs."

"Celes—"

She turned to Locke and the brothers, pretending she didn't see the thief's tears.

"Take care of Terra."

She stepped back to Kefka's side, and both Edgar and Sabin had to hold Locke back to keep him from tackling the latter to the ground. Feeling the raw power of Shiva coursing through her, Celes raised a hand towards the Returners and muttered a few words. Sooner than they could protest, a blue light encased them, and they faded from the room.

Kefka smiled at Celes. "Shall we?"

Elsewhere, Locke sat down on the deck of the _Blackjack_ with his head in his hands, Celes' words plaguing his mind.

_There are some things you can't protect me from._

"…I failed…"


	14. Gauntlet

_Disclaimer: Don't think so…_

_Thanks to all my readers and reviewers, new and old. I'm so happy you still enjoy the story! If you like the intense emotional struggle, brace yourselves, because it's only going to get better (well, worse for Celes, but better for you). Explanations for those recurring phrases and cryptic little conversations with Celes and Shiva and Ramuh are coming…eventually. But not yet. _

_Two little notes: remember way back in _Sins of the Past_ a mention of a female doctor specially for Celes and Terra? She finally makes an appearance! And I gave Gestahl a first name!_

_Happy holidays everyone!_

_Warning: There is sporadic naughty language in this chapter._

Chapter Fourteen: Gauntlet

Two lines of officers stood facing each other in the courtyard before the Imperial Palace. Each officer brandished a club, and a large crowd of Imperial soldiers amassed around the two ranks. After all, who wouldn't want to witness the fatal punishment of a traitor, the former general of the Empire?

She was brought out in chains, long manacles at her wrists and ankles. Many of the horde shouted insults and spit at her. There was no announcement precluding her condemnation, no warning to others against future treason. She was simply shoved between the awaiting rows of spiteful executioners.

They lashed out with their clubs, striking her with merciless brutality. The almost rhythmic beating drove her forward down the line. Blows to her back made her stumble forward, always forward. Blows to her abdomen left her breathless. Blows to her head left her mind hazy and rapidly fading in and out of darkness. But not once did she cry out. The shouts of the spectators pounded her eardrums as the clubs pounded her flesh.

"Die, stupid bitch!"

"Imperial whore!"

"Bleed, traitor!"

"Burn in Hell, Chere!"

What lasted under a minute seemed an eternity to Celes. Her legs gave out, and she fell to her hands and knees. A kick to her abdomen, and her arms folded under her, bringing her to her stomach.

Most would give up and await death, but not Celes. Her pride wouldn't allow it, and she struggled to claw her way forward. That strength, however, was not to last. She made one last attempt to lift herself up, but the vicious beating took its toll, and she collapsed to the ground and didn't move.

Cheers arose in the courtyard. They shouted the Imperial salute and death threats to all those who oppose the Empire. The cheers abruptly stopped, though, when the woman began to stir, and the silence gradually changed to murmurs of surprise. How the hell was she still alive? they wondered. They raised their clubs to finish her off, but were stopped by a booming voice.

"In the name of Aurelius Gestahl, cease at once!" it commanded.

It was the unmistakable voice of General Leo, confirmed when he materialized out of thin air at the side of the emperor himself. The effect was immediate; every man in that courtyard dropped to his knee and bowed his head to salute his lord.

As Celes gradually became aware of her surroundings, she attempted to rise but failed. When trying again, a hand appeared in front of her. She stared at it for a moment, then slowly looked up to see the emperor personally offering her his hand, a look of genuine concern and compassion written on his aged face.

Disoriented, she didn't understand what was happening, but hesitantly grasped his forearm as his fingers wrapped gently around hers. She tried to stand, but only made it halfway before falling back onto her hands and one knee in pain.

Leo came forth and hastily removed her chains while Gestahl chanted softly. The emperor gently lifted Celes' chin with two fingers until her eyes met his before lightly running his fingertips down her face. Celes felt strength flow back into her as a powerful incantation washed over her, healing her wounds.

Still with the aid of Gestahl's hand, Celes rose unsteadily to her feet. Four men suddenly appeared, their crimson robes and helmets clearly marking them as the emperor's Elite Guards. Two of them walked to either side behind Celes, while the other two remained with their liege.

Gestahl made a very slight bow of his head to Celes, then looked at Leo. After the general acknowledged his liege's silent command with a curt nod, Gestahl allowed himself to be escorted back to the palace by the two shrouded guards.

As soon as Gestahl was out of sight within the palace walls, Leo took a gentle hold of Celes' arm and began walking her to the palace, the remaining two Eiltes following closely behind. Upon reaching the steps leading up to the palace doors, Leo turned to his captain.

"Arrest the men involved in the implementation of the gauntlet. They will be dealt with later."

"Yes, sir!" the captain saluted sharply.

Not one person present except Leo himself understood why the emperor would save the woman from death. The fact that Gestahl himself appeared, healed her, and helped her to her feet meant the reason was significant indeed.

It was considered a great privilege to be graced by the emperor's presence and more so to be touched, let alone healed. It was always known that Celes had Gestahl's favor, but she had been branded a traitor by General Kefka. How was she still granted the honor of His Majesty's compassion?

((ooo))

Not a word was spoken as she was led to the medical wing of the palace. Still a bit dazed from the recent savagery, Celes had to depend on Leo's arm to keep her balanced. They reached a familiar office with a familiar face waiting, her eyes and smile bright with kindness.

"Celes, come right in," the woman beckoned, ushering Celes to the observation table. "I know what you've just been through, and I must say I'm quite impressed you survived. How do you feel?"

Celes merely looked at the older woman with a darkened gaze, her eyes speaking volumes of her pain.

"That's understandable." The doctor turned to Leo. "Thank you, General. She's in good hands, now."

"Melissa, If it's alright with Celes, I'd like to stay," Leo requested. "I'm…sure Emperor Gestahl will want a report on her status."

Doctor Melnick smiled to herself at the man's excuse to 'have to' stay with Celes. Pushing her amusement aside, she glanced at Celes for confirmation. The blonde, who was rubbing her forehead, shrugged vaguely.

"Alright, Celes, let's get something for that headache of yours," Melissa said.

While the doctor rummaged for medication, Celes turned to Leo.

"What's going on, Leo? Why am I here?"

"The emperor has yet to acknowledge the charges brought against you, especially since you were never tried. Kefka once again acted beyond his mandate by subjecting you to this treatment, and he will be punished for it."

The blonde merely looked up the older man, her blank expression not twitching in the least.

"The emperor wishes to present you the opportunity to defend yourself so that he may make a wiser decision as to your fate."

"What happened in South Figaro is now irrelevant, Leo. I led the Returners into the research facility, and then I let them escape. I doubt Gestahl will overlook this—"

"Leave judgment for His Majesty, Celes. He is a fair man, and you should feel honored that he would give you this chance."

"Honor…" she mused. "I have no honor left, Leo. Nor pride… Everything I worked my entire life for was taken from me. Do you have any idea what that feels like?"

Leo looked to the ground, unable to meet her gaze, ashamed he couldn't stop things sooner. Evading her question, Leo stepped aside to allow Melissa to administer to Celes the remedy she held.

"This'll make you feel a little woozy, Celes," the doctor murmured. "I suggest you lie down and rest for a while."

Celes obediently laid back onto the padded table and closed her eyes. Leo pulled a blanket over her and tucked a few stray strands of golden tresses behind her ear, a small smile forming as he gazed at her peacefully innocent face.

"Welcome home, Celes."

((ooo))

Aurelius Gestahl stood at the floor-to-ceiling window behind his throne with many thoughts troubling him. Age was catching up with him; though healthy, the notion of death still loomed on the horizon. He was an emperor without an heir, and a man without a wife to bear him one. His nation was at war, which was proving much more taxing than he had anticipated. And his generals, the glue that held his empire together, were disunited.

The Fates, it seemed, were laughing in his face.

The doors to his chamber opened, and two of his crimson-clad guards entered, leading a young woman inside. He thought of her, like he did Kefka and Leo, as his child, and just seeing her cleared his mind of all other worries. Although, he had to admit the sight of her without her uniform and sword was slightly disconcerting.

The guards parted to either side of the throne, and she knelt down in front of it as a commoner would, not as a general of the Empire—on both knees. Gestahl fought to hide his fond smile as he came to stand above her.

"You may rise."

As she stood, he noticed that she kept her eyes averted deferentially. He sighed inwardly, as he felt this level of formality was beneath her.

"You know why you are here." When she merely nodded, he said, "Celes, you may speak."

"You wish to know what has happened these last months."

"Indeed."

"I have never betrayed you, my lord, nor defied you, if that is what you wish to hear."

"Did you not lead the rebels into our most guarded facility and allow them to escape with our best specimens?"

"I don't deny that I did, but it was not out of malice for the Empire; it was for the welfare of Terra."

"For Terra?"

"The Esper in the Narshe mines reacted with her and put her in a coma. I thought perhaps one of the Espers in the facility could help her."

"I see. And am I to assume that you are aware of Terra's…heritage?"

"You would not be wrong."

"And how did you come upon this knowledge?"

Celes bowed her head, apparently somewhat ashamed. "Professor de la Vega's records are not as secure as he believes. I hacked into them two years ago."

"A challenge, to be sure, but not above someone of your skill," he complimented, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "And once you knew Terra was safe? What would you have done then?"

"To be honest, I don't know."

"And now?"

"Majesty?" she questioned, requiring explanation.

"If given a choice, what would you do now or perhaps desire to have happen?"

Gestahl watched as she pondered his query, curious as to how her time away from the Empire had changed her.

"I would wish for things to go back to the way they were…before all of this."

Gestahl smiled. "That's all I needed to hear from you, Celes."

"I'm…I'm not sure I understand."

"When I asked Kefka to explain what had happened in South Figaro, I was not thoroughly convinced of his story's validity. I never believed you betrayed me, Celes. And from what Leo has told me, I was not mistaken. But I needed to hear it from you. Needed to be sure of your loyalties."

Gestahl noted the slightest hesitation from her before she responded.

"They lie with you, as they always have."

"Then all will be set right. That, kitten, I assure you."

((ooo))

It was an unusually beautiful night for Vector. A southerly wind kept the suffocating industrial haze behind the palace, leaving a clear view of the cloudless starlit sky. Even through the orange glow of the city lights, the constellations stood out as the landmarks of the heavens. The crisp cold air only enhanced the bright pinpricks of light as they twinkled mischievously like little fireflies.

She appeared calm; warm puffs of air billowed in lazy swirls of mist from her mouth before disappearing into the night. Yet, even the light shed dutifully by the stars gave her no peace. She remembered the night so long ago when she stood looking over the capital, watching it burn with the flames she ordered lit, listening as screams pierced the still of night. Kefka had come to her then, telling her to embrace Destiny.

"What destiny?" she whispered.

The spirits of night remained silent as stars, and her only answer was a brief and gentle glow of her pendant.

She sighed. "Yes, Leo?"

The young man stepped out of the doorway and onto the terrace. "You were always so good at that."

"What?"

"Knowing I was here." He came up beside her. "What were you thinking about?"

Celes drew in a long deep breath and let it out slowly. "Sins of the past…"

"It's not good to dwell."

"I can't help it. I don't know, Leo. Being here again…"

Leo raised an eyebrow. "I thought that's what you wanted."

"It was. It is," she amended. "It just feels odd. Like nothing has changed. The memories are still so fresh in my mind…"

"What's done is done, and the thing that matters is what you learn from it."

_In the end, all that matters—_

Celes shook her head to clear the echo. "Funny, I've heard different."

Leo put his hands on her shoulders and gazed past her to the city beyond.

"Celes…the things you've done…the things we've all done…don't define who we are. What defines us is what we choose to do _next_."

She bowed her head, the weight of his words and so many others overwhelming her.

"Cel, everyone sins. But no matter what yours are, you are still one of the two purest souls I've ever known. Try not to let the past get to you."

Giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze, Leo turned to give her time alone. Despite his words, when Celes looked at her hands, all she saw was red. And when she looked within herself, all she could see was black.

((ooo))

Celes stood on the main balcony of the palace with the entire Imperial army amassed below her. Bruises from the gauntlet still marked her face. Brandt, not only restored to his previous rank but promoted to major, stood just behind her. It was a test, one to see if she could regain her status within the Empire. Her speech had so far been well-received.

"I didn't spend my life in the Empire only to abandon it when things got rough. I didn't work my ass off for eighteen years to be screwed over by a clown with a vendetta. So any of you who still have doubts, take a good look. I've been chained. I've been beaten. I've even been assassinated." The reminder elicited a few chuckles from the more receptive. "But I'm here to show you that I'm still standing!" Those that had chuckled now cheered. "Kefka's mockery of our unity will not prevail!"

"Unity!" they shouted. "Duty! Destiny!"

Brandt stepped forward and raised his voice. "Who stands by you now even when you wouldn't stand by her?"

"Celes!"

"Who would sooner die for you than abandon you?"

More soldiers joined in. "Celes!"

"Who led this army to glory?"

The contagious shouts spread still further. "Celes!"

"Who is your general?"

By now, then entire compound raised their voices in answer. "Celes!"

Celes lifted her sword into the air. "Imperium augustus!"

"Vivo diuturnus!"

Their cheers crescendoed to near deafening levels and shook the palace walls. Celes stepped down from the platform and let out a breath. The true test was yet to come.

((ooo))

"I'm half Esper…"

Terra was in shock. She finally knew who she was, but the knowledge was both a great relief and a heavy burden. Already she knew the implications, could guess the expectations her friends would have of her. They needed to bridge the gap between humans and Espers, and who better to try than the half-breed?

She glanced around at the faces of her friends, searching for one in particular that she desperately wanted to talk to. Her memories of her life in the Empire had been gradually becoming less hazy, and she was beginning to remember the one person she had always felt comfortable with.

"Where's Celes?"

Edgar and Sabin exchanged glances, and Locke donned a pained expression. Setzer, who had stayed back a ways, stepped forward and answered the girl.

"I'm sorry, Miss Branford, but Celes is in the hands of the Empire now."

Terra looked at the gambler, confused.

"Ter, this is Setzer," Edgar explained. "He graciously lent us the use of his airship so we could get to Vector."

The girl was too distracted for formal pleasantries. "Nice to meet you. Celes is what?"

"She gave herself up to Kefka in exchange for our safe passage out of Vector," Locke muttered.

"She did it for you, Terra," Sabin added.

The girl clenched her eyes shut, but the tears still came. Edgar gently put an arm around her shoulder in silent solace. They remained still for several minutes, until Terra wiped the wetness from her cheeks with a new determination.

"Setzer, get your airship ready."

"Sure."

"What is it, Ter?" Edgar asked.

"We're going to the Sealed Gate. This war has to stop."

((ooo))

The town of Maranda went to bed peacefully that night, just as it had for weeks. They didn't have to worry about the next raid since General Chere was condemned. Although she did escape, it was rumored she worked with the rebellion now, so she was no threat. And in her absence, General Cristophe was put in charge of the Southern Continent.

He was a fair and compassionate man. He wouldn't order a slaughter like General Chere did. He wouldn't order the city destroyed and then allow chaos and looting. Plus, he had other matters to attend to, so his focus wasn't on Maranda. The peasant rebellion could go undetected during this lapse of authority on the Imperial Continent.

The town of Maranda went to bed peacefully that night.

After all, they had nothing to worry about.

It was a calm night. Not a breath of wind. The crickets were chirping merrily, the bullfrogs were croaking contentedly, the nightingales were singing their sweet song, and a few kindly citizens were chatting freely in the streets without a care in the world.

But all of a sudden, the crickets stopped chirping, the bullfrogs stopped croaking, and the nightingales stopped singing. They knew something the humans didn't. There was a predator nearby, stalking silently in the woods towards the peaceful city.

A very large predator.

An army of predators, to be exact.

And at their head stood the very person Marandans no longer feared. The citizens believed they were safe. They believed their rebellion would prevail.

They say ignorance is bliss.

General Chere says ignorance is vice.

Out of the woods they came, as silent and stealthy as ghosts. Under the cover of night, with the clouds veiling the illuminating light of the moon, they were all but invisible, their movement concealed by the darkness. Like shadows they were, phantoms of the void of night.

Noiselessly, they drew their weapons. They came from the South, entering the sleeping city from behind so as not to attract unwanted attention. They moved as one, as fluidly as a snake through water. Those unfortunate enough to be out in the streets were slain quickly and quietly by either a slit throat or a pierced heart, their screams muffled by the gurgling of their own blood.

Celes was pleased with her men. The operation reminded her of a trained assassin; undetectable and efficient, silent and deadly. Things were going as smoothly as she had hoped. Their goal was to reach the town entrance, securing Maranda and initiating immediate lockdown, slip into the recently elected mayor's house and kill him quietly, all before the town woke up the next morning. They were a third of the way through town.

Yes, Celes was quite pleased.

Until some moron failed to kill his target.

One man, one severely wounded resident managed to climb the bell tower and sound the alarm, waking the entire city, including its subversive militia. The man was quickly brought down by an archer, but the damage was done, and their cover was blown.

Celes swore under her breath. "Prepare for battle!" she yelled. "Bring the militia down! Kill all who resist!"

The general's orders were quickly passed along the chain of command.

"Eagle squadron, with me!" Celes ordered.

A group of ten Elite soldiers stepped up to their commander. It consisted of her major, her captain, her two lieutenants, and six other highly trained commandos, all of whom were Magitek warriors. In essence, they were Celes' own personal escort on campaigns such as this.

Soon, male residents began emerging from their homes fully armed. Celes' men were quick to respond, charging at the resistance. Lines of defense from both sides converged in a bloody mess of mutilation and death.

The female general and her team made straight for the mayor's home through the blood-stained streets. The resistance members constantly confronted them, but proved no difficulty for the experienced Elitists.

A man rushed at Celes, but his own momentum carried him into her blade. Removing her sword from the unlucky man's chest, she slashed sideways, slicing across another's stomach. Continuing her trek forward, yet another fool ran at her, his sword held high. As he drew near, Celes grasped his shoulder with her left hand, pulling him towards her while thrusting her blade into his abdomen. Barely slowing down, she extracted her sword and strode on.

The moon peaked through a hole in the clouds, temporarily basking the horrific carnage in light. Bodies littered the streets. Blood was everywhere. Screams echoed eerily, and the stench of death filled the still air.

The invasion was carried out with cold ruthless efficiency. The Imperial forces crashed down upon Maranda like waves on rock. The waves were razor sharp and streamed sinuously, seamlessly through town, cutting down anything and everything that moved. The resistance never stood a chance.

They reached the mayor's house and, of course, the front door was locked. The two lieutenants attempted to ram the door, but the solid oak held fast. The captain stepped up to help them, but Celes motioned for them to stand back, sheathing her sword.

The air rapidly grew colder as she placed her hand on the doorknob. Her men watched and shivered as frost spread from her hand across the entire surface of the door, seeping into the cracks and knotholes. They could hear the wood creak under its prison of ice.

Celes stepped back and nodded to her captain, who promptly kicked the door. The wood literally shattered under the force after having become so brittle in the sheer frigidness of Celes' magic.

Weapons drawn, they entered the dwelling. Three soldiers entered first and made their way straight to the mayor's bedroom, flushing out any resistance. Major Brandt preceded Celes, who was flanked by her two lieutenants and followed closely by her captain. The other three men dispersed through the house, securing the area further.

The major burst through the bedroom door, and he and the three Magitek Knights surrounded the bed. The married couple were already awake from the sounds of the battle outside, but the sudden entrance aroused a scream from the wife. The two lieutenants came in next and parted to allow the general to enter. She was recognized immediately.

"G-general Chere!" the older man exclaimed nervously. "Wha…what are you doing here?"

Celes didn't even respond, instead grabbing his arm, pulling him out of bed. His wife screamed again as Celes began half walking, half dragging the man through the house. The terrified woman begged the female general not to hurt her husband, but she was not acknowledged.

The man pleaded for his life, begging not to be taken from his family. His pleas were disregarded. He prayed for his family to be spared. His prayers were left unanswered.

Once they reached the street, Celes dropped the man to his knees. Without hesitation nor a word of warning, she ran her sword through his chest. The wife broke free of the Imperials' grasp and ran to her husband's side, cursing Celes' heartlessness as the man slumped to the ground.

Celes turned towards the messenger running up to her, ignoring the cries of the woman behind her.

"General! The Armors are in place and standing by." The screams of the woman grew louder and more panicked. "They await your order, ma'am."

The shrieks grew still louder and more desperate. There was the sound of metal slicing through flesh, accompanied by the abrupt halting of cries. Blood gushed as the body fell limp to the ground, the officer calmly wiping the glistening crimson stain from his sword.

Celes paid it no heed.

"Burn it."

The order was given, and four MegaArmors simultaneously fired their blazing beams upon the city, and the for the second time, Maranda was reduced to ashes.

((ooo))

Five figures stood before a massive gateway blocked by a magical barrier. One was a young woman with green hair and a glowing red pendant, her arms outstretched towards the seal. Behind her were her three companions: a thief, a martial artist, and a moogle. The fifth and final person was a man who, in all fairness, appeared a court jester escaped from his insane asylum. The three companions were all that stood between the rampant jester, the woman, and the portal.

That is, until another figure approached, ten other men behind him. The companions were at first concerned.

"Kefka!"

The jester turned. "Welcome, Leo! You are about to witness the beginning of a new age of the Empire! For just past that gate lies our destiny, the key to owning this planet: the three Goddesses."

Leo shook his head. "No, Kefka. Your destiny lies in a cell in the bowels of Vector." He turned to his men. "Arrest him."

"What the hell is this?"

"You know damn well what," Leo growled.

Kefka's scowl turned into a smirk. "Did I finally kill the bitch?"

The younger general merely glared at him, and the thief flinched at the insinuation.

"Oh, you will give me the pleasure of seeing her body, won't you?"

"You listen to me, you sick bastard. I ought to rip your throat out for what you did to her."

"Oh, I do hope it was painful."

Leo'a anger was getting the better of him. "You twisted son of a bitch! Why? Why Celes?"

Kefka thought for a moment. "Let's play a little game, shall we? I'll answer your question, if you answer mine." Leo was silent. "Why did I do it… Well, let's see… She's always been the emperor's favorite. His _precious_ little warrior. I was sick of it. So I decided to do something about it. Ok, my turn." Leo nodded. Kefka paused for effect. "…When she ran the gauntlet, how long did it take her to die?"

Leo stared daggers at Kefka before turning sharply and walking back the way they came. Kefka cackled wildly at the other man's reaction, even as his hands were bound behind his back by Leo's soldiers.

"Oh, come on, Leo! It's only a little game of truth or dare, and you're not very good at it!"

As the Imperials disappeared, the thief turned away, distraught. The martial artist and the moogle tried to cheer him up, but they were interrupted when the woman called to them.

"The gate…it's opening…"


	15. Red and Black I: Unity

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything here except my imagination and my computer._

_Originally, this chapter was going to go all the way through the Esper sequence. It turned out a lot longer than I had planned, though, so I broke it into three chapters under corresponding titles; I didn't want it to overshadow Chapter Eighteen, which is the big climax in the World of Balance. I'm getting there :)_

_Just a note: the title Red and Black is a (obviously) a reference to the Imperial colors, but it also alludes to the previous chapter when Celes saw red on her hands and black in her soul. Basically, Red and Black is a metaphor for Celes' turmoil._

Chapter Fifteen: Red and Black: Unity

"They're coming!"

"Setzer, pull up!"

Amidst the shouts of alarm, otherworldly beasts streaked by in flashes of light. The passengers were thrown to the deck as one of the creatures made contact with the airship.

"I've lost control!"

At Setzer's cry, Edgar staggered to his feet and ran to the stern to assess damage.

"The rear stabilizer's been hit!"

"Come on, baby, hold together," the pilot muttered.

The starboard engine erupted in a ball of flames, and the _Blackjack_ jolted more violently and began a downward spiral.

"Everybody, brace yourselves! We're going down!"

The airship quickly lost altitude as smoke billowed from the blazing craft. The ground rapidly rose up to meet them, and worse, their course seemed dead set on Maranda. In desperation, Setzer jerked back on the flight controls, forcing the nose up, and by sheer stroke of luck, they overshot the city, instead plowing into the forest to the south.

((ooo))

"For the last time, Kefka, be quiet, or I'll have you gagged."

The jester was very nearly being dragged by his manacles down the long corridors of the Imperial Fortress, three soldiers plodding resolutely ahead of him, with Leo giving him an occasional nudge onward from behind. The young general could not describe his elation at seeing Kefka in chains.

"But this is unjust! I was doing my job!"

"And trying to kill your fellow general is your job?"

"She's not even dead," Kefka muttered as the prison guards opened the door to the cell block. "No harm, no foul."

"You instigated mutiny in her men and tried to have her executed twice. Her military career is treading on the edge of a knife, and you don't see the harm in that?"

Kefka's almost euphoric faraway look answered Leo's question. At that moment, a thunderous blast shook the fortress. Palace alarms rang, compound sirens wailed, and Kefka squealed in glee.

"An attack?" a guard guessed.

"Get Kefka in his cell," Leo ordered before taking off at a full run out of the penitentiary.

The arrested officer was prodded into the cell, and the door was slammed shut and locked behind him. Kefka, wide-eyed and cackling like mad, sat down on his cot and waited.

Leo sprinted down the catwalks and through the corridors of the fortress, heading straight for the throne room. Elite guards already barricaded the double doors, but they quickly parted to allow the general inside.

"Majesty!"

"It is the Espers," the emperor said calmly, not taking his eyes off his city.

Leo's captain ran into the room. "General!"

"Tamith, how far away is Celes?"

"She's still two days out, sir!"

"Send a carrier pigeon and get her here!"

"Yes sir!"

Leo turned back to Gestahl. "Majesty, orders?"

"The power they possess…" Gestahl mused in wonder. "We cannot fight them."

"My lord, we should move you to safety."

"I don't feel the need. The Espers are already returning east."

The general joined the emperor at the window. The city looked as though it had suffered every natural disaster possible at the same time: wind and fire, earth and stone, water and ice.

"You will send out aid?" Leo inquired. At Gestahl's silence, the general grew insistent. "My lord, you must send aid! Now is when the people of Vector need you!"

The emperor seemed to snap out of his trance. "Of course, Leo. I will send relief, and I leave you to facilitate it. Whatever funds and resources you need are yours to distribute."

"It will be done, Majesty."

((ooo))

Setzer kicked the _Blackjack_ in frustration. The sturdy hull of the airship managed to withstand the impact, and the fires were extinguished, but the engines were either charcoal or scrap metal, the stabilizers were shot, the upper and lower propellers were corkscrewed around each other, and the cables for the navigation system had been singed and severed. Flight would be impossible until repairs were done. The pilot was only thankful his crew had suffered only minor injuries, and his passengers appeared to all be in one piece.

"Well, it looks like we're grounded for a while."

When Setzer didn't get a reply of any kind, he turned around to locate his companions. They all stood at the edge of the forest, staring at something beyond, presumably Maranda. Curious, the pilot jogged over, then stopped dead in his tracks at the sight that awaited.

Houses were nothing but embers. Ash hung in the air. Blood stained the streets. Countless bodies were piled onto carts, waiting to be put in the shallow graves dug just outside the city limits.

"Gods…" Terra whispered. "What could do this?"

"The Espers?" Sabin guessed.

"No… They couldn't have…not like this…"

((ooo))

The doors to the royal chamber burst open, and the guards snapped to attention. A very flustered-looking general strode in, her cloak a white flurry behind her, and she dropped to one knee before the emperor.

"Welcome back, General."

"I made haste as soon as I received word, my lord," Celes answered as she stood.

She exchanged a nod with Leo in greeting, and the two generals relaxed their stances, waiting for their lord to speak.

"You have seen the city, Celes?"

"Briefly. And as far as I can tell, the destruction extends in at least a five-mile radius around the outer limits of Vector."

Gestahl nodded to himself, his worn features bearing wrinkles of deep thought. His gray eyes seemed to twinkle with a new light.

"The power of those Espers…beyond anything Cid can contrive…"

The emperor had a covetous air about him, and the generals traded glances of mild unease. Both believed that a man driven by greed was doomed to fall by it.

"Leo, Celes." When Gestahl had their full attention, he began, "What would you say if I told you to extend an offering of peace to the Returners…?"

((ooo))

It took nearly ten solid days of walking to reach the center of the continent. The Returners could see gray billowing smoke rising in the distance from Vector, smoke that wasn't from the city's industrial factories. Surrounding townships and cornfields smoldered. Streams and meadows were frozen over. And unnatural rock formations jutted out from the earth in massive upheavals.

When the Imperial metropolis came into view, the Returners stood in shock. Sections of the outer wall were crumbling, and half the city lay in shambles. Even the Imperial Fortress, sturdy as it was, bore signs of damage to the solid iron.

As if drawn to the wreckage, Terra walked through the collapsing gates, the others silently following. Though the streets were teeming with Imperial soldiers—many toting what looked to be food, water, and medical supplies—not one spared the rebels a second glance. Hundreds of homeless and injured Vectorans lay scattered wherever there was space, and the soldiers lent aid with whatever they had to offer. Food stations were set up every few blocks for those who could walk, while meals were brought to those who couldn't, and medical personnel tended to the wounded.

As they began crossing an intersection, Sabin tapped his brother's shoulder and got his friends' attention. The martial artist gestured down one of the streets to where an officer in casual uniform held a vial of some liquid remedy to the lips of a young girl.

"There's General Leo."

They watched as the general spoke soothingly to her while a hospital attendant set the child's broken arm. As Leo stood up from the girl's side, Edgar and the others walked over to him.

"Leo."

When the general turned, he smiled at the familiar face. "Edgar. Been a long time."

"It has."

Leo's smile turned more affectionate at seeing the green-haired mage. "Terra. Good to see you're well."

The young woman responded only with a shy nod, and the officer turned back to Edgar.

"What brings you all to the Imperial capital?"

"Our airship was damaged and we crashed just outside Maranda. We were on our way to Albrook when we saw the wreckage here."

Leo nodded sadly. "The Espers hit hard. Half the city was destroyed before we even knew what was happening."

"You seem to be handling it well," the king noted, referring to the operation around them.

"The emperor is doing everything in his power to get this city back on its feet. Which reminds me: the emperor was hoping you would come here, and he'd like to extend an invitation to you all under a banner of truce."

"Invitation?"

"To a banquet, where we can talk over our situations. Don't worry. No tricks." Leo put a hand to his heart. "On my honor."

Edgar looked to Terra and the others to judge their reactions and saw mostly surprise and suspicion.

"If you need time to think about it, you may," Leo offered.

"I think that would be best," Edgar replied appreciatively.

"Of course. If you do decide to join the emperor, the palace guards will escort you in. Feel free to wander about the city. You won't be bothered."

"Thank you."

"I hope to see all of you in the near future."

As they rounded a corner to continue further into the heart of the city, Locke looked back at Leo for a brief instant and swore he saw a flash of familiar blonde. Then, they were out of sight.

"You just missed them," Leo said to the approaching woman.

"Believe me, it was intentional," Celes replied, kneeling with a bowl of soup next to the girl Leo had earlier comforted.

"How are you ever going to get through dinner?"

Celes lifted a spoonful to the child's mouth. "By getting _extremely hammered_."

Leo chuckled at her mirthful insincerity. "Well, I suppose we should inform His Majesty of their arrival and prepare for the banquet."

Celes gave another spoonful of soup to the girl. "How are you so sure they'll show?"

"Edgar is not one to refuse a truce offering. Like father like son."

((ooo))

"You know, Brother, for someone who didn't trust Celes for being an Imperial, you certainly were chatty with Leo."

"Sabin, not now."

"Just an observation."

"I've known Leo a lot longer than I've known Celes."

"Noble, though he is," Cyan began, "thy acquaintance is still an Imperial."

"I know," Edgar conceded. "But I would still be curious as to what Gestahl wants."

Setzer casually rolled a coin over his knuckles. "Then you'd best be careful, Ed, or he'll end up owning you."

"Again," Sabin added.

The king bit back his angry reply, knowing there was some merit to their comments. His father, and indeed he himself, had made mistakes in dealing with the Empire. He wondered if he was doomed to repeat those mistakes.

"I think we should see what Gestahl wants. And Imperial or not, I trust Leo's word." The king sighed. "Terra, what do you think?"

"Well…I don't remember specific details, but I do know that Leo was one of the only two people I trusted completely…" She paused, trying to suppress her fear, as well as her sadness. She took a deep breath. "I think we should meet with the emperor."

((ooo))

The dining hall, like so much of the Imperial Palace, was an odd combination of cold industrial steel and warm luxurious accents. A plush red ornamental rug sat on the stone floor. Blood-red Imperial banners hung on the metal walls. A long rectangular table stretched across the dining hall, a white tablecloth of the finest linen covering it.

Emperor Gestahl was already seated on his regal throne in the middle, opposite the Returners. One seat to either side of him was empty, and the next two were occupied by men in crimson robes; the emperor's personal security force, no doubt. Four more Elite Guards stood at the back wall.

Edgar noticed a door at either end of the room and the two guards at each one. And, of course, there were the two guards at the door through which they entered. Obviously Gestahl was one who indulged in the security of his Elite.

Gestahl extended his arms in salutation. "Welcome, all of you, to the Imperial Palace. I am pleased that you decided to join me for dinner as friends."

Before taking their seats, Edgar spoke for his companions. "It is not my intention to insult your hospitality, but I feel that 'friends' is too strong a term for what we are here."

The emperor's smile faltered for only a second. "Of course." He gestured to the empty chairs. "Please."

As soon as they were seated, a train of servers filed in and placed full entrees before them, along with glasses of wine and bowls of sliced bread loaves. Edgar watched as the servers set plates in front of the vacant chairs and thought it odd. As if reading the king's mind, the emperor spoke.

"I have asked my most faithful servants to join us tonight. Allow me to present to you General Leo and General Celes."

The two side doors were opened by the Elite Guards. Jaws dropped in shock as the two officers walked in, both looking sharp in their formal uniform as they strode to Gestahl's side, Leo on the right, Celes on the left, both bowing to their lord and master.

They wore the traditional black and red garb of Imperial generals, with their stiff-collared leather jerkins of the purest onyx and red tassels hanging from the obsidian metal armor covering their shoulders. Black cloaks, with the Imperial insignia embroidered onto them, clasped beneath the armor and floated behind them, the crimson silk lining glistening like liquid fire. The long-sleeved tunic of black silk under the jerkin shimmered with regal radiance in the artificial light of the dining hall. Both wore black leather gloves, but Celes' left arm of course bore the longer iron-buckled gauntlet. Their black pants were crisp, and their leather boots were polished to a glossy black sheen, with Celes' steel-toed and more feminine boots reaching up past her calves and making a distinct click as she walked.

Celes still had her usual two small braids, but now she also had a larger braid on either side, pulled back and clasped together by a silver barrette. Locke also noticed the silver band pierced in her upper right ear.

Two more distinct observations about each could be made as the two raised their heads from their salute. While Leo's eyes shone with warmth and compassion, Celes' were cold and dark. The light once there was gone, buried under a bitter frost. No trace of the gauntlet's brutality was visible, and her expression was not vacant as they were used to seeing, but hardened by the trials of her re-ascension, composed and professional. Her manner demonstrated the authority of her rank, touched with a hint of arrogance. Locke cringed as he beheld her; once again every bit the commanding general.

As the two took their seats on either side of the emperor, Edgar half rose from his chair out of politeness to the lady. Leo had believed Celes had been overreacting, but he felt the tension rise almost immediately between the two parties.

"I'm glad you all came," Leo said warmly, trying to lighten the mood.

He glanced at Celes, hoping she would extend the courtesy of a greeting, but she was avoiding eye contact with all but the glass in front of her. Edgar, it seemed, was less proud.

"Lady Celes…a pleasant surprise, to be sure."

She gave only a slight nod of acknowledgement to the king. Finally, she lifted her gaze to the woman across from her.

"Terra. Glad you're okay."

"You too."

Terra opened her mouth to say more, but she stopped herself. This dinner wasn't about Celes.

"Well then, shall we dine?" Gestahl suggested.

Several minutes into the feast, the emperor began his proposal. "I'm sure you all wonder what has brought us together." With nods from the Returners, he continued. "I…I have lost the will to fight. Witnessing the power of those Espers has made me realize the grief and destruction war brings."

Though several quiet gasps came from the Returners, Edgar was doubtful. "You want the war to stop? Why now?"

"My original goal was to bring unity to the world, but I see now that somewhere along the way, that dream became twisted into a web of violence and misery. No good could come of that."

"And Maranda?" the king braved. "Where did that fit in your 'peaceful dream?'"

The Returners all looked to their spokesman, surprised he would dare such an accusing query. Leo spared another glimpse to Celes, but if she felt any guilt at all, she hid it well.

Gestahl lowered his head. "Maranda…was a mistake. I had heard of a rising rebellion and wanted it put down. By the time I had come to my senses, it was already too late."

"And the Returners?" Edgar pressed.

The emperor paused to collect himself. "…The Espers are angry, and rightly so. But they cannot be allowed to continue this rampage. This is why we need you."

"What can the Returners do that all the might of the Empire can't?"

"You have something we don't." Edgar raised an eyebrow. "You have Terra."

The king glanced in some alarm at Terra, but it was Locke who spoke out.

"Terra won't be your pawn anymore."

Gestahl raised his hands in plea. "Please don't think of it that way. Terra has a connection with the Espers that Celes can only hope to match. She's the only one who can bridge the gap between our two races and bring peace."

Terra abruptly stood from her seat, distress etched on her porcelain features. Celes also arose, and when Terra ran towards the doors, the general motioned for the guards to allow the girl out before sprinting after her.

When she caught up to the girl outside the dining hall, Celes took Terra's arm to halt her running. Tears streamed down the half-Esper's face as she turned to her friend, shaking her head.

"I can't! I can't go back to them, Celes, I just can't!"

Celes put her hands on either side of Terra's head to force eye contact and attempt to calm her down, and what she saw was absolute terror.

"Terra, no one's trying to force you back into the Empire."

Before Celes could protest, Terra's arms latched themselves around her, clutching her back tightly as the girl burrowed her face into the general's neck like a frightened child.

"Promise you won't let them take me!"

"Terra…" Celes sighed. "I promise."


	16. Red and Black II: Duty

_Disclaimer: …that little piggy went to market while this little piggy stayed home to take artistic liberties on the game owned by Squaresoft…_

_The second installment of the Red and Black chapters. Still not much happening in the action department, being more of an emotion-based chapter. Not much else to say except, "The plot thickens."_

Chapter Sixteen: Red and Black: Duty

Despite both Celes and Leo's assurances, Terra was reluctant to agree to Gestahl's proposition. The emperor insisted the Returners remain at the palace until her decision was made, and though wary, they had little choice but to stay. The following morning, Leo offered to take the emperor's guests on a tour of the fortress, which they accepted with great interest.

"Terra? Will you be joining us?" the general asked.

The girl looked over her shoulder and saw Celes walking down the corridor. She turned back to Leo and shook her head.

"No, but thank you."

Leo bowed his head to her, and when he and the Returners began in the opposite direction, Terra sprinted down the hallway after the lady general.

"Celes!"

The blonde paused until the girl was beside her, then continued walking.

"Yes Terra?"

"The others went with Leo, but I kind of wanted to talk to you. Do you mind?"

"Of course not."

Celes turned and led Terra through a door to the outer wall of the fortress. Terra hesitated, suddenly unsure if she wanted to broach the topic.

"I…I don't know what to do. Everyone's counting on me, but… What should I do?"

"No one can choose for you."

Terra studied her friend as they walked. "Celes…what happened to you?"

The blonde seemed to expect the question. "What did they tell you happened?"

"Who?"

"Edgar, Locke, and Sabin," the general clarified. "What did they tell you?"

"Just that you let yourself be taken by Kefka… He was going to kill you…"

"He nearly succeeded," Celes confirmed quietly.

Terra looked at her friend with concern, wondering if she heard disappointment in her voice.

"And now?"

Celes kept her gaze focused across the city, and Terra's inquiry was left unanswered. The girl sighed and withdrew a miniature sword from her boot. A glint of color caught Celes' attention, and the blue crystalline blade seemed somehow familiar to the general.

"We found it in the cave to the Sealed Gate," Terra told her. "It seems important, but we can't figure out why."

Celes took it in hand and studied the hilt of the dwarf blade. A symbol stood out from the otherwise simple handle: a circle divided into light and dark. She wracked her brain trying to place it.

"Atma Weapon," she said suddenly.

"What?"

"It's a mythical sword, created from the very essence of magic. It's supposed to be incredibly powerful when extended to its full length. Legend has it, only a champion of magic can wield it in its true form."

"It feels powerful," Terra agreed softly. "Like it has purpose…"

Celes recalled her studies of ancient myths from when she was younger. "It's been said that in the time of the Goddesses, before they turned to stone, everything was created in balance. So when the champions of the Goddesses forged the Atma Weapon, the lesser deities of Hell released a beast called Atma into the Esper realm."

"Good and evil," Terra mused.

"All in balance," Celes followed.

Terra stared into the fluorescent crystal, and seemingly by its own will, the blade sprung up, growing to its true span. The general raised an eyebrow, but otherwise said nothing. As if the Atma Weapon lent her the strength she needed, Terra made her decision.

"I'll do it." She looked Celes in the eye. "I'll help you get through to the Espers."

The general forced a smile, but underneath it all, Celes' spirits fell, and only she, Leo, and Emperor Gestahl would know the reason why.

((ooo))

A grand parade was held in the still-recovering streets of Vector to celebrate the alliance between Imperial and Returner. Gestahl, with Leo and Celes at his side, was carried on a red-and-gold float through the city to rouse the denizens and to show his trust of his new allies. When the float ended its circle at the gates of the palace, the emperor began his speech, with much of the populace, including the Returners, gathered in the streets.

"Citizens of Vector! By recent negotiations, the state of Vector will ally with the Returner faction. We will have peace! And from peace will arise justice and prosperity!"

"We have been struck down by the angry souls whom we have wronged, but," Gestahl gestured to the green-haired figure who now stood by Celes, "we have been graced by the Essence of Hope!"

Celes let out a puff of air, trying unsuccessfully to ignore the inevitable echo.

_You, together with the Angel of Hope will bring balance back to the world._

"These few brave men and women of the Returners will help the Empire change the fate of the world! Unity will abound! Duty will prevail! And Destiny awaits!"

Edgar threw a sideways glance to his friends. "Why do I get a very bad feeling from this?"

"Because something just seems incredibly off?" Locke ventured, his eyes for the moment fixed on Terra standing with the two generals.

The others muttered their agreement, but the thief barely heard them. He was still in shock that Celes was not only alive, but once again at the side of the emperor. Watching her stand up there, looking so proud, Locke had to wonder if Setzer had been right; maybe one couldn't change Imperial nature.

With similar thoughts circulating in Edgar's mind, a new dread began to surface.

"Guys, what's wrong with this picture?" he asked quietly.

Sabin swept his eyes over the scene. "Everything?"

Edgar gave a tight smile. "Except for Kefka's absence, this is the Empire…what it was: Gestahl, his generals, and Terra. I don't like this. I don't like this one bit."

"Nor should you," a new voice warned.

Edgar turned with surprise. "Banon!"

The rebel leader stood with a large group of Returners behind him, his gaze, too, transfixed on Terra and the Imperial trio. Edgar's companions exchanged their own greetings with the newcomers.

"We must be cautious, Edgar," Banon advised. "We are treading dangerous waters, and should we drop our guard, the Imperial sharks are sure to close in for the kill."

"We have little choice, Banon," the king murmured. "I hardly think the emperor would simply allow us to walk out of his city if we refused his offer."

"Indeed."

"Still…" Edgar switched his gaze between Leo and Celes. "The Triumvirate of Generals has crumbled. Perhaps the war will indeed follow."

"I would hardly say crumbled," the guru argued.

"There is no longer the Balance of the Three. Kefka is in prison—"

"And how long do you think that will last? Besides, the two generals still remain."

"The two more sane. Leo is an honorable man—"

"Who's faith in his lord blinds him. And Celes…" Banon shook his head. "Her loyalty to Gestahl precedes all else. Their hearts and their wills mean nothing. Edgar, I merely wish for you, and all the Returners, to guard your Hope carefully."

The king followed his mentor's gaze and nodded in agreement. "Terra."

((ooo))

Immediately following the parade, the mission was launched. Believing the Espers had flown northeast to the land known as Crescent Island, word had already been sent to the soldiers in Albrook to begin preparing the Imperial cruiser. Leo and Celes, along with their entourage accompanying them on the mission, escorted Terra to the port city with plans to depart the following morning.

With Leo and Celes occupied with final arrangements and nothing else to do, Terra sat atop some crates and watched as the cruiser was loaded with supplies for the journey. Late in the afternoon, she saw a familiar face appear on the docks.

"Locke!"

She hopped down from the boxes and ran to greet the thief, pulling him into a quick hug.

"What are you doing here?"

"Well, I couldn't let you go all alone, could I?"

"Locke, I'm not exactly alone," Terra reminded, glancing over her shoulder at the two generals.

The thief merely sent her a pointed look, and the girl understood his meaning; Edgar and Banon didn't want her left alone with the Imperials. Of course, she wasn't aware of his other reason for wanting to come.

The girl practically dragged Locke to where Leo and Celes were working. At seeing the thief with Terra, the two generals exchanged anxious looks, suggesting something other than pleasure at the thief's presence.

"Is it alright if Locke comes along with us?"

Leo glanced to Celes, and the lady general gave the slightest shake of her head. Leo, however, turned back to the two Returners with a forced smile.

"Of course, you're welcome to join us."

Celes held back a groan, instead returning to her work. Leo looked to the sky, noting the time.

"Why don't the two of you find something to eat. I've made arrangements at the inn, so feel free to rest until we depart in the morning."

When the two left, Celes turned to Leo. "The others were supposed to stay in Vector."

"What difference will it make? Surely one man can't compromise our mission."

"One is all it takes," she muttered under her breath.

That night, Celes volunteered to stay late at the docks to oversee the last preparations, letting Leo turn in. Leaning against one of the dock posts, she became aware of a man in black next to her. She recognized him as the mercenary she met months ago in South Figaro.

"I remember you," she acknowledged indifferently.

"I hear you're going to Crescent Island."

"Your point?"

"I know the land."

"A mercenary offering himself as a guide?"

"I have my reasons."

"I'm sure." Celes paused for a moment in consideration. "What's your price?"

"Two thousand now, plus another two when your business there is finished."

"Sounds reasonable."

"A deal then?"

"A deal. But I must warn you. Two of the Returners you sold out back in South Figaro are coming with us."

"I'm not worried."

"Good. We leave just after dawn."

She heard no confirmation, and when she looked beside her, she found herself alone. Shaking her head, she gave her captain the final word of approval. Leaving the docks, she started up the stone stairs leading to the inn. It was then she noticed the figure on the bridge, elbows on the granite rail, head in his hands.

She halted her steps.

_I'll protect you. I promise._

_There are some things you can't protect me from._

_I promised to keep you safe. I don't go back on that!_

_You don't trust me…_

_Do you want me to trust you?_

_Did you tell them, Celes? The truth about South Figaro?_

_Celes…?_

She shook her head to ward off the unbidden reverie. Despite her best efforts to suppress it, the hurt was still there, and she didn't think that damaged past could ever heal.

Unconsciously taking a deep breath, Celes quietly ascended the last of the stairs and made for the inn.

Locke, in his torment, was seconds away from banging his head against the stone rail. He knew he should have just let Sabin accompany Terra instead of insisting on going himself, but his desire to remedy his dissolved friendship with Celes and his urge to protect Terra won out.

All was not well, of course. The lady general still wouldn't even look at him, and she was definitely not happy when he showed up at the docks. In fact, he thought miserably, he probably just made things worse by coming. The stone rail was becoming even more appealing.

That's when he heard footsteps behind him.

"Celes?"

He was surprised when she stopped walking, but still she wouldn't meet his gaze.

"Still not talking to me, eh?" He nodded to himself. "I don't blame you. You were right, you know. I didn't trust you. I wanted to…! But… Things just got so complicated."

He saw Celes bite her lip as if to keep from replying.

"Cel…I'm sorry."

Even as the words came out of his mouth, he heard the click of her boots as she walked away from him. The thief lowered his head in grief, but he called out to her one last time.

"I know I failed you!"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her pause. But either his confession wasn't enough for her, or it was perhaps too much, and with a swirl of her cloak, she was gone.

((ooo))

The ship departed the following morning as scheduled. Away from the Imperial nation, the two generals changed from their black garb to their more casual field uniforms. Leo donned his azure tunic beneath his emerald breastplate and cape. In radiant contrast to her normally darker attire, Celes wore all white: tunic, leggings, boots, glove, even her breastplate and shoulder armor. The only break in white was the ever present black gauntlet and a sapphire layer of silk that lined her snowy cloak.

The sun surrendered to the inevitable coming of night, and the first day of sail passed. The moon was full, and the stars were bright, free from the glow of the industrial world. The only sounds were the low hum of the engines and the gentle swishing of the water lapping against the ship's hull.

The ocean was calm, its surface still and black as Celes gazed across it infinite span, cursed by distant memories and recent plights to which there was never an absolution.

After giving a final order to the crew, Leo found he was not alone on deck. Against his better judgment, he walked up behind her and affectionately ran his hands down her arms, feeling her stiffen with the tenderness of his touch.

"You know it is forbidden what you feel for me."

Leo was not surprised Celes knew of how he felt, but she had never addressed it. His smile was soft.

"Is it forbidden for a man to love a woman?"

"Leo—"

She tried to squirm away in discomfort, but he held her still. Neither of the generals noticed the thief watching from the shadows, his queasiness taking on a different origin. Listening to such a confession, he felt a pang of hurt beyond explanation.

Leo didn't loosen his hold. "I don't ask anything of you, Celes. I never have. I'd never jeopardize our friendship like that."

"Or our careers?" she reminded coldly.

Leo sighed sadly and let his hands fall from her arms. "Or our careers."

With no desire to eavesdrop further, the still-unseen thief slinked dejectedly inside, mentally willing his stomach to settle.

"Don't forget what we're here to do, Leo."

Though the older general could sense the frost in her voice was forced, it still stung.

"Our duty…" he affirmed. "Do you think it's right?"

Celes' silence was her answer: generals don't think. They obey. Leo mutely remained at her side for several minutes before choosing to retire for the night. With a soft goodnight, he disappeared inside. All was quiet again until there was a soft _thump_ on the deck. Celes turned her head slightly and was hardly surprised to see Shadow.

"I was stargazing," he explained, motioning towards the cabin roof. "Didn't mean to overhear anything."

The lady general merely shrugged. The mercenary looked to the door inside, but in a rare moment of curiosity, he turned to Celes.

"_Do_ you think it's right? What Gestahl is planning?"

At first, there was no answer. Then, quietly, "Shadow, how do you do your job?"

The mercenary understood exactly where her question was coming from; she was looking for validation for her actions. His earlier query was solved.

"People like us don't have the luxury of remorse. It's what people like Gestahl love about us. And it's what people like the Returners hate about us."

Nothing more was said, and when Celes turned around, Shadow was gone.

_Author's Note: Banon's comment on the generals' hearts and wills came from Beatrix's line in FFIX, "My heart and my will mean nothing." I've always liked that quote._


	17. Red and Black III: Destiny

_Disclaimer: Home, home in Japan, where the team of Squaresoft plays. Where the money rolls in, and the games roll out, which I don't own the rights to at all…_

_Ok, enough of that. Stupid disclaimers. Now 'Home on the Range' will be stuck in my head for the rest of the day…_

_Well, this is the last of the Red and Black chapters, and it took me forever to figure out how to write it. Next chapter is the dramatic close of what I affectionately call Book I. And it will be a while before it's finished; it's long…and complicated…and delicious…_

Chapter Seventeen: Red and Black: Destiny

Five days after leaving port, the passengers of the Imperial cruiser made landfall on the southern tip of Crescent Island. Shadow informed the generals of a settlement to the north, where the cliffs were too high and the waters were too rough to dock the ship.

Terra stepped off the gangplank and onto the sandy shore as if into a dream. Even through the eternal mist that blanketed the island, she could see specters of the rolling grassy plains, ghosts of the tall verdant forests, and silhouettes of the towering mountain peaks. The occasional call of an anonymous bird floated over the gentle crashing of waves. The thick scent of fog and sea hung in the air, the stillness of it moist and cool to Terra's skin.

But beyond the senses, beyond the reach of mere mortals, there hovered another presence, more dense than the mist, more potent than the tangy air.

"There's magic here," Terra said softly.

"Powerful magic," Celes followed from beside her.

The green-haired mage swept her gaze over the mystic lands, and a smile graced her face.

"It's incredible!"

Even the young general could not escape the girl's contagious grin, and for a moment, just a brief moment, she was able to forget the burden of her uncertainties.

Terra abruptly took Celes' hand and began running for the nearest bluff, half dragging her until the general regained her own footing. The two raced to the top, eager to survey the island from a new height and bathe in its mystical aura.

Leo shook his head at the sight of them. "Only Terra."

"That girl's got a hold over Celes, I'll give her that," Captain Brandt agreed.

As soon as all was ready, the two generals and their captains, the two Returners, and Shadow began their trek north, leaving the other Imperials with the ship. According to the mercenary, the people of Thamasa would most likely prove helpful to their quest, but also that it would be difficult to gain their trust.

Before entering the quiet town, Leo and Celes traded their Imperial capes for cloaks of a simpler and less imposing manner. They also removed their sword belts and handed the weapons to their captains, who would remain outside the village.

Walking down the dirt road leading into the hamlet, the now even smaller group saw a young boy standing near some bushes. His hands were raised towards the vegetation, and he was muttering something they couldn't hear. When he caught sight of the travelers, however, he stopped whatever he was doing and raced through the field into Thamasa.

"There are people coming! There are people coming!" they heard him yell.

Leo watched the child in puzzlement. "Odd…"

Upon arriving in town, the party noticed some denizens retreat into their homes, while others expressed guarded curiosity with their stares. Leo approached one of the seemingly less-intimidated, an older woman tending her flower garden.

"Excuse me, ma'am. I was wondering where I could find the elder of your village."

The woman looked up from her magnolias. "The elder? He's at home on the other side of town. But whatever it is you need, you'll have to speak with old man Strago first. Call it a screening process."

"I see. And where would Mr. Strago be?"

The woman's chuckle at Leo's use of a title was lost on the general.

"Just follow this path past the large manor. It's the next house on the right. If you hit the butcher shop, you've gone too far."

"Thank you, ma'am."

As they followed the woman's directions, Terra looked around. "Does something seem out of place here?"

Locke rubbed the back of his neck. "I was thinking the same thing."

"Everyone's nervous," Leo said. "Probably not used to having travelers come here."

"No, it's not that," Celes disagreed. "Something's here. Something…almost dormant. Terra?"

"Yeah. I feel it, too."

They reached what they assumed to be the correct house, and Leo knocked on the door. An elderly gentleman in a red cloak opened the door and narrowed his eyes at the strangers.

"What do you want with me?"

"Are you Mr. Strago?"

"Mr.?" He let out a hearty laugh. "Makes me feel like an old man. Just Strago will do."

"Alright then, Strago. I am Leo Cristophe, Knight and General to the nation of Vector on the Southern Continent."

"Vector? As in under the rule of Aurelius Gestahl?"

"You know of our realm?"

"Of course. We may be secluded here, but we are not ignorant of the outer world." He stepped aside and gestured for the group to enter. "What brings you here, Leo, Knight of Gestahl?"

"I assure you, we mean no harm. We are actually looking for something. Tell me, have you heard of Espers?"

Strago's eyes widened, but he quickly put on a look of confusion. "Espers? Nope, can't say as I'm familiar with that word."

Leo nodded, not thoroughly convinced. "Is there anyone here who might be?"

"You can ask around if you want, but I doubt you'll find anybody who knows about these Espers of yours."

The man's speech was rushed, and Leo detected some anxiety. Not wanting to seem threatening, he decided to concede, giving a slight bow.

"Thank you anyway for your help."

Just as they were about to leave, a young girl scurried down the stairs, her golden-blonde pigtails bouncing playfully. Strago sent her a warning glance, imperceptible to his visitors, but it went disregarded. The girl looked up at Celes and Terra. She tipped her head to the side as she studied them, and then her face broke into a wide grin.

"Hey! They can use magic!"

"Relm!" The elderly man turned back to his guests. "My granddaughter has quite the imagination. Please pay her no mind," he said hurriedly.

"That's so cool!" Strago tried to hush the girl, but she ignored him. "I thought only the geezers around here could cast!"

Terra mirrored the child's smile. "The people here can use magic?"

Over her grandfather's protests, Relm chirped, "Of course! This is the Village of the Magi!"

Strago nearly hit himself in the head with his staff. "Relm, what have I told you about telling strangers certain…aspects…of our lives?"

"Oh, what a fussy old man! What does it matter, anyway? They can use magic, too!"

Strago gave a heavy sigh of defeat. Celes quirked an eyebrow at Leo, and Shadow chuckled in amusement.

"I guess I should explain," the Thamasan began wearily. "We who dwell on this island are indeed descendants of the Magi. A thousand years ago, near the end of the War of the Magi, our ancestors were hunted down. Some escaped to this island and thus remained in seclusion to the present day, hiding from those who would kill them for their gifts."

Terra lowered her head. "People hated them for being part Esper…?"

Strago nodded solemnly. "Even those humans who did not breed, but merely learned from the powers of magicite were despised." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "So, you're looking for Espers, eh?"

"We believe they came here, yes," Leo confirmed.

"And what do you want with them?"

The general glanced at Terra before answering. "To make them understand the threat to their kind is over."

Strago stroked his mustache. "I'll have to speak with the elder before I can tell you anything more."

"Of course."

The sage turned to his granddaughter. "Relm—"

"I know, I know," she interrupted. "I won't say another word. You old windbag," she finished under her breath.

Strago offered to let his guests stay at his house until he returned from the elder's. When he left, Terra knelt down to Relm's level.

"Hi, Relm. I'm Terra."

"Nice to met ya!"

"So, you can use magic, too?"

"All my life." The child studied the older woman some more. "You've got power." She switched her gaze to Celes. "Both of you do. I can feel it."

"You have quite a sense for these things for someone so young," Terra noted.

"The Magi bloodline is really weak now, but Gramps says I'm special or something. I think the elder called me a prog…a prod…"

"Prodigy?" Celes ventured.

"Yeah. But I think they're just senile."

Leo shook his head at the girl's outspokenness, a smile playing across his face.

"What's so funny?" Relm demanded.

"Oh, you just remind me of someone."

"Really? Who?"

The general stole a glance to Celes. "A young girl I used to know. She had your spirit."

"What happened to her?"

Leo shrugged. "She grew up." He paused for a moment. "Oh, how rude of me. I'm Leo."

Relm shyly took the hand the man offered and shook it lightly.

"That's Celes, Locke, and Shadow," Leo finished.

"Shadow?" The girl cocked her head. "Funny name."

"And Locke isn't?" the assassin muttered.

"Hey! All good treasure hunters need a name that identifies with their trade!" Locke claimed.

Relm scrunched her face. "Treasure hunter? What is that, code for thief?"

That got Terra giggling, and even Celes had to cover her mouth with her hand to conceal her smile. The 'treasure hunter' glared at both of them (though inwardly overjoyed at the blonde's reaction), and Relm just blinked, not getting what the big deal was.

"Grownups are weird."

"It is _not_ the same thing," Locke mumbled.

Ignoring him, Relm made another query. "What do the rest of you do?"

Leo took Terra's place in crouching down to Relm's level. The girl's candid enthusiasm was a welcome change from the strictness of his home.

"Well, Celes and I are Knights of our lord in Vector."

"As in swords and honor and stuff like that?"

Leo looked up at his fellow general. "Yeah, something like that."

"Cool. And Terra?"

"She's a mage who's acting as our…negotiator."

"What about Mister Broody over there?" Relm wondered, jerking her thumb towards the man in black in the corner.

"Mercenary," Shadow answered simply.

"That doesn't sound very friendly."

As if to prove her point, the assassin looked away and didn't respond. It was then Relm noticed the dog sitting at Shadow's feet.

"Puppy!"

"Stay away. He bites."

Despite Shadow's warning, the girl rushed over. The canine, however, didn't seem at all bothered by the attention, and Shadow let his head fall into the palm of his hand when his companion's tail start to wag.

"Interceptor…"

When Strago reappeared, his guests, except for Shadow, focused their attention on him.

"I'm afraid the elder denies you any further information regarding the Espers, having found no reason to trust those of a 'warmongering nation,' as he put it. I'm sorry," he added at seeing Terra's crestfallen expression.

"You did what you could," Leo said.

"Feel free to stay at the inn overnight," Strago offered. "It's rare we have visitors, but Glenda keeps it up fairly well. I'm sure she'd give you a good deal."

Leo bowed. "Thank you again."

The older man held the door for his guests as they left. On the threshold, Shadow looked over his shoulder.

"Interceptor, come."

Obediently, the dog left Relm and followed his master. Once they were all outside, Leo turned to his fellow general.

"Celes, why don't you arrange accommodations at the inn. I'll go find Tamith and Brandt and tell them to join us so they're not stuck outside all night."

"Alright."

By dusk, the four Imperials were standing around a small wooden table in the non-private room of the inn. In an effort to decide their next move, they pondered over the crude map the two captains had come up with in their time outside the village. On one of the beds, Shadow and Locke were passing the time with a game of cards, with Interceptor dozing on the floor near his master's dangling foot. Lastly, Terra was curled up on the comforter of her bed, overtaken by sleep. The Imperials spoke in low tones so as not to disturb her.

"I think the mountains are our best bet," Leo was saying. "Celes?"

The blonde nodded her agreement. "I definitely felt the strongest waves of magical energy coming from that direction."

"Ok, we'll leave at dawn tomorrow. Sound good to everyone?"

Their were various mumbles of accord. When Terra began to whimper in her sleep, Celes, Leo, and Locke all looked over at her in concern. The mage had curled into an even tighter ball and was twitching faintly. Abandoning the map, Celes went to her own cot to pick up her cloak. With more gentleness than the thief thought possible, the general carefully covered her friend with the silk-lined garment, briefly stroking Terra's soft green hair, and the girl stilled.

With a tiny smile, Locke turned back to his cards. "She's been having bad dreams like this for a while now."

"Poor kid," Captain Brandt murmured.

Interceptor stirred and whined anxiously as a flickering orange light filtered through the thin window drapes, drawing the attention of the inn's guests.

"What is that?" Leo asked worriedly.

Leaving Terra's side, Celes walked to the window, pushing the cloth out of the way.

"Fire," she breathed.

Leo joined her at the window, and as soon as he saw the flames, both generals abruptly headed for the door.

"You guys stay here," Leo called over his shoulder as he and the lady general hurried out.

Locke sent Shadow a questioning glance, but the assassin shook his head. Interceptor gave another whine.

The two Imperials ran to where many Thamasans were gathered in front of the blazing manor. Strago was running in panicked circles.

"Relm's in there! Do something!"

Celes and Leo traded looks, coming to a silent decision. The latter unclasped his cloak in preparation to enter the house, while the former approached the house, stopping several yards from the front entrance. The door had already caved in, and the opening was engulfed in fire. Before either could do anything, however, Locke raced by and dashed into the building.

"Locke, no!" a now very awake Terra cried after him.

Cursing aloud, Celes closed her eyes in concentration, holding her hands slightly away from her body. When icy spheres of blue energy grew out of her palms, she dropped to the ground, slamming the energy into the earth. Two wide bands of ice took flight from her hands, combining into one stream and skimming across the surface of the soil.

Within seconds, the frozen river reached its destination. Snakes of ice slithered up either side of the entrance, solidifying the tongues of fire into a stunning crystalline frame around the door.

Beauty was not Celes' intent, though, and she poured all her focus into paving a path of ice to aid Locke in finding Relm. She remained crouched and now staring at the burning edifice, her hands glued to the ground with the energy flowing out of them. Beads of sweat began to streak down her face, as it took every ounce of her power and control to sustain her conjuring. Her breathing became shallow and ragged as her reserves drained, and, in the end, she collapsed.

"I can't do it… The flames are too strong…" she rasped as Leo and Terra helped her sit up.

Minutes seemed an eternity as they ticked by, with no sign of the thief or the child. Strago had calmed to more of a shocked idleness. Then, out of the flames leapt a large black dog, followed closely by a familiar mercenary, and lastly, the endearing thief. The two women and Leo were surprised to see that it was Shadow who carried Relm on his back.

Even while the Thamasans gave their praises to the two heroes, Locke dropped himself down into the grass near his companions, coughing the smoke out of his lungs. Celes looked wearily at him.

"If I had the strength, I'd hit you right now."

Locke returned her gaze, startled by her actually speaking to him. Was that concern he saw in her eyes?

"Why?" He flashed a roguish grin. "Were you worried about me?"

He could nearly taste the venom in her glare, and he cringed.

"I think the smoke poisoning has made you delusional," she threw back.

Though the anger behind it was greatly diminished by her exhaustion, Locke could still tell she bore continuing resentment towards him.

The lady general attempted to stand.

"Celes, I think you should take it easy," Terra warned. "You used a lot of magic, and the aftershock might—"

She was cut off.

"Terra, I didn't train all my life to be incapacitated by one overuse of—"

Celes very suddenly suffered a severe head rush and slumped backwards, submitting to darkness. Leo stepped into her to stop her fall, supporting her across her shoulders.

"Oh, yeah, you're fine," he teased. "Locke? Would you take her back to the inn for me? I'd like to check on Relm."

"Sure."

The thief took gentle hold of Celes, unaware of his own soft smile as her head lolled against his shoulder. Scooping the unconscious woman into his arms, Locke followed Terra back to their room. Once there, he carefully laid Celes down and pulled the blanket over her. Oblivious to Terra's inquisitive gaze, he watched the general for a moment longer as she slept. Finally, he shook his head and left her in peace.

((ooo))

"Feeling better?"

"I'm getting there," Celes replied with a yawn.

"Well, get there soon, because we're leaving shortly," Leo told her.

"What's got you in such a good mood?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

"You know those mountains we were talking about? Strago confirmed that if the Espers are anywhere, that's where they'd be."

She raised an eyebrow. "I thought he wasn't going to tell us anything more?"

Leo smiled. "Last night he said he'd help us in whatever way he could in thanks for saving Relm."

"Convenient."

"Yeah. Just get ready."

Less than twenty minutes later, Celes stepped out of the inn, greeted by the morning sunlight and a quick question of wellness from Terra. Locke only expressed his concern silently through the brief moment of eye contact Celes allowed.

Relm bounded up to her. "Gramps told me what you did. That was amazing!"

Celes responded with no more than the tiniest smile at the girl's praise.

"Anyway, I just wanted to thank you."

The older blonde waved it off. "Don't worry about it."

It was then the lady general noticed the figure in black apart from the group. He crouched close to the ground, scratching the ears of his dog. After a short nod to Relm, she strode over to him.

"It seems I have served my purpose," Shadow said, not looking up.

"Looks like. So you're leaving, then?"

"Something has come up."

"Bad memories, huh?" she guessed.

"Something like that."

"You'll only get half your pay."

"I'm aware."

Celes motioned for her captain. "Two thousand."

As soon as the mercenary received his money, he called for his dog to follow and disappeared seemingly into the wind.

((ooo))

"Hey, Gramps, are you sure the Espers are here?" Locke asked, looking up at the towering peaks.

"Can't you feel it?" the old man murmured.

"Feel what?"

"The magic," Terra answered.

"It's so thick I could probably draw it into my blade," Celes followed.

"Even a normal human should be able to at least feel a tingle from its presence," Strago told him.

The thief glanced at Leo, who simply shrugged.

"Meaning?" Locke pressed.

"Ancient lore says the Espers were created deep within these mountains. This is holy ground for them, so if they're anywhere in this world, it's here."

It took them hours of navigating the maze of mossy tunnels and steep cliffs to reach a large enclosed space. Bottomless chasms lined the walls, but there in the middle, illuminated by a beam of sunlight cast in from a natural skylight, stood three golden statues. Locke's eyes lit up with a glint of treasure-lust, but Terra caught his attention and shook her head no.

"The Goddesses," Strago whispered reverently. "Creators of magic… They say the Espers molded these figurines out of respect to their makers."

Locke moved closer. "If these are just images, where are the real Goddesses?"

"Beyond the reach of humans, most likely. I'd say they lay dormant in their stone prisons deep within the Esper realm."

The others could only nod, dumbstruck by their fascination. When finally they moved on, which involved literally dragging Locke away from the gold icons, they rounded the corner and nearly ran over a short but familiar figure.

"Relm!" Strago cried. "What in gods' names are you doing here?"

"I wanted to help!"

"But it's dangerous here! Relm, you have to go back. Leo will take you, won't you, Leo?"

"No!" the girl protested. "I want to stay! I can help!"

"No, Relm. Leo is taking you back, and that is final."

"No!"

The child darted under Celes' arm and behind her legs. The older woman stared down at her in surprise, but quickly closed that side of her cloak, concealing the girl completely.

Leo's brow raised in question. "What are you doing?"

"She doesn't want to go," Celes answered simply.

"And _you_ would shield her?" Leo shook his head. "I always knew your maternal instincts would surface eventually. I just didn't think they'd be so backwards," he finished, ignoring her glare.

Celes switched her gaze between Leo and Strago as she argued on Relm's behalf.

"She's here already, and she'll be safer with the five of us than alone or just with you, Leo. Why not let her stay?"

The older general looked to the child's grandfather. The latter rubbed his forehead in exasperation.

"Alright," he yielded.

Relm emerged from within Celes' cloak. "That's better. Now let's go!"

The child began to skip ahead until she felt a hand on her shoulder holding her back. She looked behind her and grinned sheepishly at seeing Celes' admonishing, however gentle, expression.

"Or I could let someone go ahead of me," the girl amended.

At that, Locke, being the habitual cave-explorer, took the lead. Another hour passed before a narrow trail on the cliff-side finally opened into an echoing cavern. Terra was disappointed to see it empty of life. That is, until the shadows began to move.

Locke instinctively reached for his dirk, but Celes grabbed his hand, giving him a pointed glance of warning. The thief didn't know what stunned him more: the woman's touch, or the unearthly beasts that suddenly surrounded them.

One of the creatures took a step apart from the others. He had the appearance of a giant wolf standing erect, his yellow eyes bright and alert.

He looked at Strago and Relm. "We have no quarrel with you, Magi. But these humans…"

"Wait."

Another Esper stepped forward. His muscular form, curved horns, and shaggy mane of fur gave the impression a small behemoth. His eyes were kind, though, and he had an air of civility.

"I sense a familiar presence in these two. Maduin," he presumed with a smile to Terra, "…and Shiva," he finished in surprise with regard to Celes.

"The child of Maduin…" the first mused admiringly. "But of Shiva? That's impossible. Shiva never conceived."

"And yet her spirit lives within this one… I am called Yura. Tell me, children of earth and ice, what brings you here?"

Terra took a nervous step forward. "We…we're here to tell you the threat to your people is over. The emperor has ended the war and is hoping for peace between our realms."

The Espers all murmured to each other in a mixture of excitement and doubt. Yura hushed them.

"Truly?" he questioned.

Leo answered. "As representatives of Emperor Gestahl, Lady Celes and I can both assure you that the emperor has every intention of making a pact that will change the course of our worlds forever."

((ooo))

They had returned to Thamasa. Leo and Celes were exchanging apologies for various transgressions with Yura. Terra, Relm, and Strago had been chatting with the other Espers, but now stood watching the progression of the peace talks. Locke stood apart from them, a glum look on his face.

"What's with him?" Strago asked. "He looks so depressed."

Relm flipped a pigtail over her shoulder. "He's in love with his enemy's general. Did he _expect_ it to work out?"

The old man looked down at his granddaughter. "Relm, it's not nice to speculate about others' personal lives."

The child crossed her arms defiantly. Terra just blinked. Then they noticed the thief in question cautiously approaching the now unoccupied lady general. He tapped lightly on her shoulder and awaited acknowledgment.

"Yes?"

"So… I guess you'll be going back to Vector then, huh?"

"That's right."

Locke didn't understand. He had watched the icy general soften for a child she barely knew, yet she still refused to say more than a terse word to him.

"Look, in honor of the alliance, why don't we start over?" He extended his hand in mock greeting. "Hi, I'm Locke. I'm…well, I'm a thief."

That caused Celes to meet his gaze, if only for a moment, before she had to turn to hide the bit of laughter that managed to slip out.

"I can't believe you just called yourself a thief."

"It got you smiling, though, didn't it?" he replied with an impish grin.

She shook her head in disbelief. "…I hate you."

The thief merely looked at her expectantly, and finally she permitted their eyes to meet again, allowing him to see her genuine smile.

"See Gramps! I told you!" Relm squealed.

At the girl's outburst, the eye contact was immediately broken and the smiles vanished when both Locke and Celes looked away from each other.

All seemed well, however, until an unmistakable laugh shattered the tranquility.

_Author's Note: Ok, I admit I kind of skimped out on a couple of those scenes, but…I don't care. This chapter kicked my rear end all over creation, and I just wanted it done._


	18. Blood and Betrayal

_Disclaimer: If I owned Final Fantasy VI, which I don't, I would make a movie out of the game and have John Williams work with Nobuo Uematsu on the soundtrack. Think of the possibilities…_

_This is it! The catastrophic end of the World of Balance! I've been working a very long time on this, and it's definitely high on my list of favorite chapters. The World of Ruin plot is still on the drawing board, so I apologize in advance if it's a long time in coming._

_A special thanks to Lenna the Fallen One, ladyvella42, and Chinese Miko, who have all faithfully reviewed nearly every single chapter since the days of _Sins of the Past_. You three are great! And of course thanks to everyone else, reviewers and anonymous readers alike. You guys all keep me going with this._

_Note on chapter: Celes has a flashback that alludes to another she had in chapter eight. I won't spoil it here, though._

Chapter Eighteen: Blood and Betrayal

"Kefka. How the hell did you get here?"

"Why Leo, I flew here on my little cherub wings," the jester teased.

The general wasn't amused. "You weren't scheduled for release for another sixteen months."

"Emperor's orders," the other said with a shrug.

Celes appeared beside Leo. "We would've been notified."

Kefka grinned at her. "But you were already aware of how things would play out. Surely you haven't forgotten what you came here to do…"

When Celes stayed quiet, Leo answered. "The mission is on schedule—"

"Yes, yes," Kefka cut in, "and I'm sure you would've completed it in due time. I'm simply here to see it done."

With that, he raised his hand into the air, and two suits of the newly enhanced MegaArmor clomped forward. Leo sent a panicked look behind him to where the Espers and Returners and Thamasans stood.

"Kefka, don't," he warned.

The jester smiled wildly, though he noticed Celes fingering the hilt of her Rune Blade out of the corner of his eye. A slight wave to the pilots behind him, and the Megaton cannons whirred to life. Leo moved to stand in front of the closest Armor, and despite Kefka's shouts, the pilot didn't dare fire on the beloved general. The second fired a massive beam of fire, but Celes whipped out her already glowing sword. The beam abruptly changed course and entered the blade with a force that nearly knocked her over. In turn, the second pilot also ignored Kefka and quickly shut down the cannon for fear of harming the lady knight.

Her Rune Blade pulsating brightly, Celes raised her other hand, pausing only to make eye contact with both Armor riders. The two unbuckled their harnesses and leapt frantically from the cockpits just as the Magitek Knight released a stream of electrical energy that forked towards each Armor. The engines erupted in violent explosions, rendering both suits dead. Stepping back, Celes calmly sheathed her blade while remnant energy crackled between her fingers on her other hand.

Kefka was furious, looking like he himself was about to burst until the small figure off to the left of Celes caught his eye. Relm watched fearfully as he again raised his hand with a ball of flame. The conjuring was released, and the girl flinched, her eyes closing reflexively in anticipation of the blast. When no contact came, she opened one eye to see a swirl of blonde hair and a white cape surrounding her.

Celes' armor took the brunt of the flames, but the scorching tongues partly seared through to her flesh, and she grunted in pain as she stood from shielding Relm. The child whispered a curative incantation, and after it washed over the knight, she was rewarded with a grateful nod.

Kefka, on his back from being tackled by Leo, mumbled his displeasure. When he stood, the other male general met him with a forceful shove.

"Is this what it's come to, Kefka? Kids?"

"What? You never seemed to care when it was Celes doing it." Kefka grinned evilly. "Oh, but that's right. She's special, isn't she, Leo?"

Leo took an intimidating step toward the other man, but Celes threw her hands between them.

"Just stop!" When she had their attention, "If we do this, we do this the right way."

The Imperial captains quickly cleared the area around the knights of any civilians, including the Espers and two Returners. Locke and Terra watched nervously as several moments of mere glaring passed. Then, all three generals simultaneously drew their swords.

When Leo led with the first attack. the jester parried easily until Celes joined in the effort. Now faced with a double frontal assault, he slammed his sword side to side to fend off the near rhythmic blows of the two younger knights. A jump kick knocked Leo back, and Locke watched nervously as Kefka moved on Celes. Though never having witnessed her full potential, the thief was not surprised to see that the reputation of her speed and skill was not exaggerated in the least.

The two drove each other back and forth in a vengeful dance. Thinking he saw an opening, Kefka swiped at her midsection, but Celes easily dodged. The miss caused the jester to lose his balance, and the knight stood in mocking calm as he regained his footing. Even with her casual stance, she was not to be underestimated, as when Kefka lashed out, her blade swiftly swept forth to meet it.

By this time, Leo had ducked behind the jester, who now seemed never to stay facing one direction as he was forced to swivel to meet both his rivals' blades. Drawing both arms over and behind his head to block, Kefka found his sword pinned against his back by Leo's Masamune. Before Celes could take advantage of his vulnerable state, the jester kicked her in the stomach, buying himself precious seconds.

The lady general came back with her sword spinning as if to delay her attack. Kefka managed to break the lock with Leo with a tremendous shove, and he also spun his sword. Both sensed the other's intention, however, as both threw out their hand with magical energy. In a brilliant flash, the ice and fire met and sustained. Both mages were stronger now, and it was only after Leo swiped at him that the jester was forced to abandon the elemental clash.

He ducked beneath another of knight's attacks before striking back, and a rapid volley of parries ensued. Just before Celes rejoined the two, the jester delivered a harsh blow to the younger man's nose with the hilt of his sword. Leo withdrew momentarily, and the battle raged on between the mages.

Celes drove Kefka across the center of town with a fierce assault. When he tried to turn it around on her, she unexpectedly ran up the wall of a still-burning house, pivoted, and with a forceful jump off the vertical surface, kicked him across the face. She believed the jester's defenses to be cut, but after a series of blows, their swords locked at the hilts, and Kefka thrust downward. Celes was jerked off balance by the motion, and she had no chance to defend against the powerful conjuring of fire that slammed into her.

Seeing his friend down indefinitely, Leo confronted Kefka alone for what he hoped was the last time. Both men seemed to be treading more carefully, testing the other, waiting for him to make the first mistake. There was an eerie silence as the two generals paused, and Celes struggled to recover from the fiery blast. A feeling of ice in the pit of her stomach grew with every moment the hush continued.

The duel abruptly began once more as Leo and Kefka attacked each other with deadly blows, and the mistake was made. The younger fighter misread the older one's aim and suffered a slash to the torso. With a swift kick to Leo's head, Kefka spun and thrust his blade back into the man's chest.

A woman's scream rang through the still air.

The jester calmly removed his blade, and Leo fell numbly to his knees. Celes picked herself up and ran to her friend, dropping to his side just as he collapsed onto his back.

"Leo!"

She immediately placed her hand over his wound, the words of an incantation on her tongue. Leo gently wrapped his fingers around that hand, halting her.

"Don't," came his faint protest. "You know it's too late…"

Celes shook her head defiantly. "No…"

With his rivals out of the way, Kefka turned to the Espers with a wicked grin. He threw out his hand, and a bolt of energy connected with the nearest creature: Yura. In an instant, the Esper had been reduced down to a mere shard of glowing stone.

Enraged, Locke started to draw his dirk to attack the rampant jester, but Captain Brandt held both him and Terra back. It didn't occur to either the thief or the half-breed that the Imperials weren't at all concerned with Kefka's actions; their focus was fixed on the two other generals on the ground.

Already, the rest of the Espers had been dispatched, their remains claimed by Kefka. Eye alit with glee, he added to his own mayhem by casting streams of fire at the surrounding houses, all the while cackling like mad. The Thamasan citizens fled as the inferno spread, and soon the entire village was in flames.

"Celes…" Leo coughed, and blood spurted from his mouth. "Finish it…"

The blonde looked down and saw her friend weakly holding up his sword. She reached for the hilt, encompassing his hand at the same time. Her soft touch was only a thin disguise concealing her fury.

Oblivious, Kefka continued throwing his fiery craft left and right, delighting in the blazing destruction he wrought. Looking quite pleased with himself, he turned around to seek out another target, but instead he saw two swords coming straight at his head. He barely managed to duck out of their path, stumbling back with the unexpected maneuver.

When he looked up, he saw Celes pursuing him like the unrelenting huntress, the Rune Blade in one hand and the Masamune in the other. She struck, forcing Kefka to dodge clumsily again, and he crouched to pick up the sword he had earlier dropped. He lifted it up to meet the two descending blades, and a flash of light—mixed blues and reds—was accompanied by raining shards of ice and embers of flame.

Celes' world was black, her anger a flurry of steel. The only light came from the shower of sparks with each crash of their swords, bringing explosions of fire and frost. Kefka never did gain a solid footing as he continued to stagger back under the pressure of her attacks. In desperation, he kicked her to put a sliver of distance between them. Just as she came back, scissoring her swords at his neck, he swirled his cloak about him, and in a flash of smoke and flames, he was gone.

Celes stood still for a moment, confused by his sudden disappearance, but then quickly returned to Leo's side. Even as the village blazed and burned around them, she gently held a hand over his wound.

"It's alright, Leo. You're going to be fine," she claimed.

She whispered words of healing, and a green aura lit beneath her fingers, but the gash did not close.

"Come on, Leo," she urged. "Don't make me stand by your grave."

Vision blurred, she tried the chant again, but to no avail. It was only then she dared look at his eyes: soft brown orbs, clouded by death, staring vacantly into nothingness. Nearby, despite the attempts by several magic-enhanced Imperials to douse it, a house consumed by flames caved in with a creaking groan. Celes didn't seem to notice.

"General!" Brandt called. "The fire's too strong! It's out of control!" When she didn't acknowledge his call, he ran to the two generals. "Celes—"

Brandt then saw what had silenced her, and he, too, became lost for words. Celes abruptly stood from her friend's body, looking down at the blood that stained her white armor and cloak. The frozen water that inhabited her very core became a rolling tidal wave, seeping into every tissue, through every vein, and down each finger until outpour was inevitable.

With magic and grief overwhelming her, Celes dropped to her knees and screamed.

Faster than the eye could follow, a torrent of ice surged from her, blanketing everything in sight. The hellfire was quenched, and only the humans remained untouched by the storm.

Celes closed her eyes and bowed her head, refusing to let her tears flow, and her body trembled. Finally, she looked up, and her once cold eyes burned with raging blue fire as she felt her soul be swallowed by infinite blackness.

With a frightening calm, she stood, her sword held loosely in her hand. Turning from the body of her oldest friend, her eyes fell upon the four members of Kefka's entourage. Two of them approached remorsefully.

"General, we had no idea Kefka would go this far. We thought he was just following ord—"

He never got to finish, nor did he even see Celes' sword before it sliced through his neck. The second could only look dumbly forward as he found that same sword embedded in his chest, already having cleaved down through his shoulder.

The two pilots of the Armors tried to run. The first tripped and fell to the ground, and Celes slid her sword through the second's back, extracting it only to draw it across his throat. The last remaining Imperial got up from where he had stumbled, and tried to dash past Celes. She grabbed him by the front of his jerkin, however, and lifted him up off the ground.

"G-General, please…! It wasn't our fault! We didn't know Kefka would—"

"Not making it better," she growled.

Brandt finally tried to restrain the wrathful general.

"Celes! This won't bring Leo back!"

She turned to the captain with a baneful glare, and he saw that the once blazing fire in her eyes had become shaded and chilled by pain and unshed tears. Genuinely frightened, Brandt released her and stepped back.

Without further hesitation, Celes unleashed her unforgiving craft into the soldier she held. After mere seconds, she let him fall, and his rigid body shattered upon hitting the ground. When the shards of the Imperial settled, the glacier of Thamasa became silent and still.

((ooo))

William Fowler, one of four colonels of the Empire, traversed the maze of the Imperial Palace, relying on his memory to guide him to the throne room; very rarely was anyone other than the generals and the head scientist summoned to the emperor's chamber.

When he was within sight of the massive doors guarded by two men shrouded in red, he breathed a short sigh of relief. Short, because beyond those doors, he knew what awaited him. With Leo and Celes absent, Fowler was acting as a pseudo-general, responsible for duties he was not used to, and the pressure was demanding.

"The emperor is waiting," one sentry said, his speech muffled by the crimson helm encompassing his face.

The doors were opened, and Fowler walked cautiously inside. Stopping just before the dais of the throne, he knelt and brought his fist across to his shoulder. He waited to be spoken to.

"Welcome, Colonel."

"Majesty."

"I just received a carrier pigeon from General Leo, dated two days ago. The Espers have been found."

"That is good news, Majesty."

"Indeed. Leo expected to arrive back in the village Thamasa late this morning. The mission is more or less complete. Do you know what this means, Colonel?"

"Yes, Majesty."

"Then you have your orders."

"It will be done, Majesty."

"I will be leaving shortly to fulfill my own plans." Gestahl raised a hand and pointed ominously at the officer. "_Don't fail me_, Colonel."

Fowler bowed his head. Dismissed, the officer stood and exited the throne room, letting out the breath he didn't know he had been holding. After taking a moment to compose himself, the colonel returned down the corridors, whose end seemed to retreat from him rather than approach him. When finally he reached his goal—the cadet training compound—he was greeted by the familiar and reassuring sights of innocent exercises and harmless duels, reminding him of days past, when war was only a speck on the horizon.

At seeing the colonel, the cadets and their supervising officers lined up expectantly. There was the smallest hesitation before Fowler spoke.

"The emperor has approved the second phase of his plan. We are to commence at once. You have ten minutes to prepare before we begin."

The Imperials saluted the colonel, and all but two scattered to their various destinations. Lieutenant-Colonel Owen Braska and Major Nathan Vilas, former instructor of Celes, remained with Fowler.

"Are we really doing thing?" Vilas wondered.

"We do what is commanded of us," Braska reminded.

"But it's so…underhanded…"

"You question the emperor?" Braska challenged.

Fowler threw his hands up. "Gentlemen! Though I admit many are unhappy with the emperor's choice of action, we nevertheless have a task to complete. Now go get ready."

"Yes sir," the two muttered.

The colonel, too, returned to his office, and there, on his desk, lay his sword. Staring at the blade, he felt his determination waver. How he wished he was not the one responsible for this duty. Forcing himself to take the weapon in hand, he did a crisp about-face and marched back to the compound. His peers already awaited him, their swords at their sides. He allowed himself one last hesitation.

"Our actions here will echo across the world…" he whispered.

He gave the final nod.

((ooo))

Cities and towns across the globe had become friendly havens for Returners and Imperials alike under Gestahl's peace treaty: South Figaro, Narshe, Tzen, countless rural communities, and even Doma with its few surviving stragglers.

At midday, the Imperial commander stationed at each location would receive a message from the emperor.

"_The time has come. You have your orders."_

With the confirmation given, each commander would fold the parchment back up and place it in the pocket inside his jerkin. The officers would then turn to their second in commands and inform them of the emperor's orders. The latter would run out of the command center to relay the message to the troops, leaving the officer in charge alone.

Some would sit at their desks with their heads in their hands. Others would eagerly pick up their sword and strike at imaginary foes. Regardless of what they chose to do beforehand, every single one of them would step out into the sunlight to face his awaiting troops. Every single one of them would tell his men to ready their weapons. And every single one of them would give his silent order: the final nod.

((ooo))

Twenty-seven Returners sat in the Imperial mess hall. Among them were the king of Figaro, his brother, the retainer to Doma, and a wild child. The gambler had long since ridden back to the airship on chocobo, taking the moogle with him for company. A team of Imperials had also accompanied him to aid in fixing the _Blackjack_.

Conversation between the rebels was minimal. The days had grown long in waiting for the return of their friends, and worry was beginning to set in.

Unexpectedly, the doors to the mess hall flew open, and a flustered man with silver hair ran in, a moogle following as quickly as his little wings could carry him.

"Setzer—"

"Get to the airship," the gambler cut in. "We're leaving."

Edgar stood in alarm. "What's going on?"

"After we finished working on the _Blackjack_, the Imperials tried to off us."

Banon jumped to his feet, nearly knocking his chair over. "What?"

"Kupo," Mog confirmed. "We had no idea. One minute, we're all peachy, then the next, _bam_, they attack us."

"I knew we could never trust them," Cyan spat.

Setzer glanced over his shoulder. "Mog and I managed to get in here without being seen, but I'm not sure how long that luck will last."

"They coming!" Gau alerted. "I hear!"

They all looked at the boy in alarm, then at each other.

((ooo))

A train of Imperials soldiers filed into the mess hall as they would for evening meal. Colonel Fowler took another step forward, scanning the room.

It was empty.

A feeling of dread plummeted to the pit of his stomach as the emperor's warning came back to haunt him.

"Search the palace!" he ordered frantically. "Find them!"

((ooo))

The Returners were scattered about the deck of the _Blackjack_, all catching their breaths from their flight from the palace. They had just barely taken off when Imperial soldiers had come swarming out of the city in pursuit. Bullet holes from the sentries' rifles riddled the hull of the airship, and the craft was charred in some places by blasts from the Spit Fires of the Imperial Air Force. They hoped, however, to be in the clear.

Hope was a fragile thing.

"Guys," Sabin called, strangely quiet. "Down there."

They all peered over the airship's rail, and the full magnitude of the Empire's betrayal became glaringly real. Villages smoldered as Imperials slaughtered those recognized as members of the Returners. Men were struck down as they played catch with their sons. Women were chased down and ripped apart by Vector hounds. Children were burned alive by the flames summoned by Magitek soldiers.

A tear ran down Edgar's face as he watched. "Gods…"

His fists clenched. No pity stayed an Imperial's sword. No mercy spared the earth its stain of innocent blood. No logic explained the senseless massacre.

Banon sank to his knees in despair as those he once called upon to fight were butchered, and the Returners around him clung to each other, mourning their brothers and sisters.

"Blasted Imperials," Cyan murmured gravely.

"Where we go now?" Gau asked quietly.

"I…" Edgar fought to not choke on his words. "I don't know…"

"Do you think this is happening…everywhere?" Sabin asked desolately. A sudden fear hit him. "Locke and Terra…"

Edgar bowed his head. "I know. I'm worried, too."

Setzer prepared to change course. "Crescent Island?"

"As fast as you can get us there."

((ooo))

Two lines of grim-faced soldiers stood facing each other, forming a path to the stone monument. Leo's body was placed gently on the funeral pyre beyond. In full black-dress uniform, Celes stepped up to the head of the column with a sheathed Masamune in her hands, her normally stoic expression matching that of her men. As she began the slow walk to the grave of her closest friend, the soldiers saluted her pair by pair as she passed. She tried as hard as she could to hide what she felt, but her eyes betrayed her immense grief. She had suffered every physical pain imaginable, but none of it compared to the emotional gauntlet she was now running.

The Imperials held their salute as she reached the stone monolith, where she carefully drew the Masamune from its sheath. The soldier closest to her took the scabbard wordlessly. She raised the sword above her head with the tip pointing down, but hesitated. She clenched her eyes shut to ward off the tears threatening to fall, but her struggle for composure was a losing battle. Opening her eyes, she thrust the sword down, driving it deep into the rock.

Celes took a step back and stared at the sword embedded in stone. Slowly raising her right hand to her right brow, memories of the past ten years with Leo flashed in her mind. The soldiers were at first confused; this was the traditional hand salute of the Old Empire which hadn't been used in almost three years.

Then they understood. Leo represented the ideals of the Old Empire: honor and compassion, not hatred and greed; the desire to protect and defend, not conquer and destroy. This was Celes' final symbolic act of admiration of Leo: to remember him as he should be remembered, to honor him as he should be honored.

The men turned to face the grave and followed Celes' example of saluting in the traditional fashion. She held that position for a prolonged moment, not wanting to let go, her face twitching with emotion. Her vision blurred as it finally began sinking in that Leo was truly gone.

As Celes released both herself and the others from the salute, a single wet drop traced its lonely path down her cheek. Looking beyond the stone, she gave a slight nod, and two officers laid torches to the timber surrounding Leo's body. Soon, the entire pyre was consumed by flames.

Terra walked forth and fell to her knees, placing tear-stained flowers at the foot of the gravestone. Behind her, Relm clung to Strago, her sobs muffled against his cloak. Locke struggled with his own emotions, haunted by memories of his dead lover, ravaged by jumbled thoughts of the blonde general.

The sky darkening with the coming dusk, Celes merely stared into the blaze, her eyes veiled and her feelings masked by the shadows of fire dancing across her face. It would be a long while before any of them moved.

((ooo))

Night passed. The rising of the sun warmed the lands and chased away the remaining frost from Celes' grief. Those already awake were greeted by the landing of the _Blackjack_ just outside what remained of the little hamlet. The passengers debarked and walked into the village, taken aback by the charred houses. Locke and Terra came over to meet them.

Edgar sighed in relief. "Thank the gods you two are all right."

Locke's ever-present unease grew. "What's going on?"

"The Imperials hath betrayed us," Cyan growled.

Setzer nodded, warily eyeing the few soldiers nearby. "We barely made it out before they locked the city down."

"And Returners are being murdered across the map," Banon whispered.

Locke's shoulders slumped. "Oh man… We were hoping it was just here…"

"What happened?" Edgar asked, concerned.

"Kefka," the thief muttered.

The king crossed his arms. "Figures."

"Ed…" Locke took a deep breath. "He killed Leo."

When the news sunk in, Edgar closed his eyes and bowed his head. Sabin felt a pang of pity for the late general, and Cyan was in disbelief.

"Sir Leo is gone? But…he was their finest warrior..."

A moment of silence passed until a young girl came over and tugged on Locke's jacket.

"What is it, Relm?"

"I think you should find Celes," she advised softly.

The thief's brows drew closer together. "Why, what's wrong?"

"I'm just worried. She hasn't spoken to anyone since last night, and I don't think she should be alone."

"Who's the kid?" Sabin asked.

"She's…well, she's a mage," Locke answered.

At the questioning looks from the others, Terra elaborated. "This is the Village of Magi. Relm's grandfather helped us find the Espers."

"Speaking of which…" Edgar began, looking around.

The woman bowed her head. "Kefka already has them. Now I'm afraid of what he'll—"

Without warning, the ground shook, and the half-Esper clutched at her chest.

Edgar held her so she wouldn't fall. "Terra, what is it?"

"The earth… It's in pain.."

A shadow rose in the West, climbing high into the sky as the earth trembled beneath it.

"The Statues have been reached…" Strago whispered from beside Terra.

The green-haired woman looked at the floating island in alarm. "No…"

"They must be stopped," the old man stated. "If they awaken those goddesses, the world will perish."

Edgar looked up at the massive isle, squinting against the rising sun. "Setzer… Can you get us up there?"

The pilot followed the king's gaze. "I can sure as hell try."

"Brother—"

"Sabin, I want you to stay here," the older twin interrupted.

Terra looked at her hands. "I want to go. I owe it to the Espers…"

"I'll go, too," Locke offered. "The rest of you should stay down here in case anything goes wrong."

There were nods, albeit reluctant, of approval from the others. It was then Relm noticed a black animal limping into town.

"Interceptor!"

The dog practically collapsed onto his side when the girl reached him, if not from exhaustion, then for a belly rub. Despite his wounds, his tail wagged for the child and his tongue lolled out of his mouth as he panted contentedly.

"They even got Shadow…" Locke bowed his head. "I'm going to go find Celes…tell her what's happened."

When the thief was out of earshot, Cyan grumbled his accusation. "How are we so sure the lady isn't already aware?"

"Cyan!" Sabin scolded.

"Gentlemen!" Banon interjected. "Let us not dishonor the dead with pointless bickering."

Elsewhere, a thief wandered through the woods bordering Thamasa, where he found the one he sought. Celes was sitting against a large oak tree, her head hung with her knees only half drawn to her chest and her arms limp between them. It was a strange sight seeing the general, clad in the daunting black uniform, in such a fetal position, and Locke approached cautiously. She made no move, not even acknowledging his presence. Under the stray strands of hair that fell over her face, he could see her eyes were closed.

"There you are," he called quietly. "The others arrived a little while ago. We've been worried about you..."

There was no response, and for some reason, he refrained from mentioning the treachery in Vector. His attention drifted to the oak tree. From farther away, it appeared to be flawless, its thick burly bark shielding it from the elements of both nature and man. But upon closer inspection, he could see the bark had large splits up the trunk. It also bore the black scars of the countless fires from its lifetime. The soil in which it was rooted had lost its richness and was no longer able to support the ancient giant. The leaves were withering, and the branches were slowly dying.

He wondered if the oak was in some way symbolic of the woman sitting beneath it. Impervious to anything and everything, strong and resilient, until one got close enough. Now he saw the flaws, the cracks in her shell. She, too, bore the scars of her life, though she bore most within. But nevertheless, those scars would inevitably take their toll, sending her crashing down. Locke knelt down, not too close to her, but not too far away.

"We all know what it feels like to lose someone close," he said softly. "You don't have to hide what you're feeling. No one will judge you."

Celes lifted her head slightly as she spoke. "You don't understand. It's not as simple as that… I…I'm supposed to—"

Her voice cracked, and instead of finishing her thought, she merely hung her head again. Locke saw her shoulders heave slightly, and he realized she was starting to cry. Without hesitation, he crawled over next to her and put his arms around her as the tremors gradually became more pronounced.

The fearsome General Chere, reputed as black on the inside as the cape she wore, leaned her head against the rebel's chest and cried.

((ooo))

That evening, Celes stood atop a small knoll overlooking Thamasa, her brows closely knit. Her form was a dark silhouette against the orange glow of the setting sun, a small wind brushing lazily past her black cloak as she watched the Returners help clean up the ravaged hamlet. The _Blackjack _was nowhere in sight, as Setzer had already taken Edgar, Locke, and Terra up to the Floating Isle.Down the coast a ways, the remains of the Imperials loaded their cruiser and prepared to sail.

Her thoughts were a maelstrom of confusion, and her place in the world was now hidden from her.

The rebels felt she had deceived them, and their one-time alliance was overshadowed by distrust. The Imperials resented her for that alliance, and her branding as a traitor, whether deserved or not, would forever taint their respect of her.

"_They don't trust you, Celes."_

Celes winced as the fatherly voice of the emperor invaded her mind, cringed because he knew her own doubts and fears.

"_You belong at my side."_

The memory of Leo's end still fresh in her mind, she fought to contain the moisture in her eyes as her resolve crumbled before her lord and master.

"_You are bound to me."_

She lifted her head to gaze upon those below once again, several tears streaking down her face.

"_Do what must be done."_

The sun, low in the sky, had turned crimson. Celes drew a shaky breath and nodded slowly once. Wiping the wetness from her cheek, she descended the hill towards the heart of the village, and her manner chilled with every step.

"Banon," she called as she approached the bearded man. "I just received word."

His eyes narrowed slightly in non-understanding. "Oh? About what?"

Celes drew ever nearer, taking hold of his shoulder and walking directly into him, her sword sliding out from under her cloak and into his abdomen with a sickening squish.

"The end of your rebellion," she whispered.

Several Returners took notice of the odd scene, including Sabin. "Banon?"

When Celes extracted her blade, the aged rebel leader sank to his knees before falling limp to the ground.

"No!" Sabin cried, running to the lifeless form. "Celes, what are you doing?"

The general ignored the martial artist when her captain appeared at her side, the rest of her company no doubt behind her.

"You have your orders," she said quietly, her voice wavering slightly.

"Yes, ma'am."

Ignorant of the danger, many of the Returners had begun to gather around. Over a half dozen found themselves run through by an Imperial sword before the realization sunk in.

Interceptor growled menacingly and took a lethal lunge at the general, but the already wounded dog was thrown back by an icy blast from Celes' outstretched hand. After staring after the dog in horror, Relm ran at the general and foolishly started to hit the older woman's arm.

"You can't do this! You can't—"

Celes grabbed the girl's small hand, and even the stubborn ten-year old cowered under the general's harsh glare.

_FLASH_

_Her sword slid effortlessly across the soft flesh of the girl's throat. The child's arms were still outstretched to her mother, who lay lifeless in a pool of blood nearby. The first crimson drops splattered on the yellow flowered dress, and the imperfection spread. Even in death, her clouded blue eyes remained open and locked on her mother's as she collapsed to the ground at Celes' feet._

_FLASH_

After a moment's hesitation, Celes dragged Relm by the arm towards a very anxious Strago, releasing the girl at his feet.

"This doesn't concern the Thamasans," Celes hissed as she turned away.

Just as a familiar drone passed overhead, a daring Returner struck at Celes with his dirk, but she caught the weapon in her left hand, yanked it sharply towards her, and thrust her own blade through him. Then, she was met by Sabin, his claws ready.

"It was an act?" he cried. "I defended you! And the whole time, you…you were just using us?"

Conflict raged in Celes' eyes as the surviving Returners, including Cyan, Gau, and Mog, fought the outnumbering Imperials in a losing battle. Sabin thought he saw a flicker of regret in the general, but it quickly vanished when a silver-haired figure hurriedly approached her from behind.

"What the hell is going on here?"

"Setzer—" the martial artist warned.

He was too late, thought, as Celes grabbed the gambler's arm and pulled him in front of her, raising her sword to his throat.

"Celes, what are you—"

"Take me up."

"Hey, calm down, Celes—"

"Take. Me. Up," she growled again.

"Ok...ok," Setzer surrendered, lifting his hands into the air. "I'll do whatever you want. Just...calm down."

Setzer may have been a bold man by nature, but he wasn't stupid. Sabin could do nothing but watch as Celes led Setzer back to the _Blackjack_ at sword point. The slaughter continued.

((ooo))

Emperor Gestahl watched Kefka observe the Stone Goddesses, how their energy writhed and churned like the stormy seas.

_Kefka, you are a fool_, he thought to himself. _You dare cross me by killing Leo, when I have all the power of the Three Goddesses at my disposal?_

Something drew his attention, and through the Statues, the emperor sensed a group of three approaching.

_And so the confrontation begins._

He focused his thoughts and sent a telepathic command to the ancient beast standing guard down below.

_Atma…three humans approach. Kill them._

Gestahl reveled in knowing the beast had no choice but to obey the master of the Goddesses. But even in his euphoria of total domination, he was discontent.

_With Leo dead, the balance of power has shifted… Kefka has gained too much, and my kitten is lost. But her pain will make her powerful, and her anger will make her invincible. Yes…with the Statues under my control and Celes as my Dark Knight, the world will be mine. Perhaps Kefka has outlived his usefulness…_

"Emperor Gestahl!"

_Ah, so the beast has failed…_

"This has to stop!"

At Terra's plea, the emperor slowly turned from the Statues to face the three Returners. His eyes held a strange yellow glow from the power of the Goddesses.

"And why is that, my dear?"

"Innocent people are dying! People who just want peace!"

"No. There is no innocence in this world. There is only power. Those who have it, and those who want it." Gestahl caught sight of a figure behind the three. "It is done, then?" he called.

The Returners looked over their shoulders, surprised at seeing the black-clad general. The icy darkness he saw in her eyes chilled Locke to his very core.

"Celes?"

She kept her gaze fixed on Gestahl, ignoring the thief completely. "Banon is dead, my lord. The others are being dealt with."

Edgar's eyes went wide. "What?"

The king took a menacing step towards her, but the general drew her sword with a warning glare. Only his disbelief held him back, and Terra closed her eyes, shaking her head.

"Celes, what have you done?"

Gestahl extended his arm. "Come, kitten."

Avoiding Terra's gaze, Celes brushed past the girl to kneel before her liege.

"Rise." As she rose, he commended her. "You have done well. The rebels will be crushed, and the world will be ours."

Edgar practically shook with rage. "You double-crossing whore!"

He drew his sword and charged blindly at Celes, ignoring Locke and Terra's cries to stop. The general calmly turned her own sword around in her hand, caught Edgar's descending wrist, and rammed the hilt of the Rune Blade into his stomach. She coolly looked down on the king as he fell to his knees, gasping for air.

"Sabin? Setzer? EVERYONE?" Edgar sputtered between coughs. "You…! …heartless bitch…" he finished pitifully.

Locke and Terra went to their friend's side, and Celes returned her attention to Gestahl, ignoring Edgar's insult.

"My lord, General Leo is—"

"I am aware of what happened to Leo," Gestahl interrupted with a sad sigh.

The emperor glanced pointedly behind him at his advisor, where he was hiding amongst the Statues. Kefka seemed to shrink away from his glare, only to sneer when Gestahl turned back to the lady general.

"I'm sorry, Celes. I know what Leo meant to you."

Celes turned away, her anger seething dangerously just below the surface of her exterior. "You know what has happened, and yet Kefka still lives."

"I can't afford to lose another of my generals. Not now."

Celes bit back further argument. "What is your command?"

"Bring Terra to me."

The blonde general looked up at the emperor but did not falter. Locke rose from Edgar's side when she approached.

"Don't do this, Cel."

Celes merely shoved the thief out of the way and grabbed Terra's arm, pulling the girl to her feet. The half-Esper looked pleadingly at her friend.

"Why, Celes?"

The general was silent as she began leading her charge to the emperor, and Terra's anger boiled to the surface.

"YOU LIED TO ME!"

"I didn't twist your arm to make you come here!" Celes threw back.

"I TRUSTED YOU, AND YOU LIED TO ME!"

Kefka spoke finally, his tone only half mocking. "Don't act so surprised, my pet. This is what Celes was born to be: the emperor's Angel of Death; the mortal Celesta."

"Celesta?" Locke asked quietly.

Edgar muttered back, "Goddess of death."

When the two women were before Gestahl, the emperor waved his hand to Kefka.

"Kill her."

Celes looked up in alarm. "My lord…you promised me no harm would come to her."

"She is a threat. She must be dealt with just as the others."

"But my lord—"

"Be careful of your emotions, Celes," Gestahl warned. "They are becoming far too prominent." When she bowed her head submissively, the emperor sighed. "Kill the others."

"Celes…" Terra whimpered pitifully.

The knight turned from her friend, and Kefka threw the half-Esper to the ground and drew his sword. Celes looked over her shoulder at the girl once last time, and when she saw the fear in Terra's eyes, the already cracked pillar of her loyalty and faith and duty shattered.

With a short laugh, Kefka raised his weapon, but even as it descended, a curved blade swept up to meet it. Before he could register what was happening, the blade drew back and struck upwards again, knocking his sword away from Terra.

Celes struck with all that was in her. Being pushed to the very edge of the summit, Kefka dodged around her, and sparks flew where the knight's blade sliced through rock. He finally lifted his sword, with Celes mirroring the move as they both prepared to strike. Before either blow could fall, they grabbed the other's wrist and struggled against each other's strength, trying desperately to topple their rival.

Celes placed a sharp knee to Kefka's nether region, and his grip weakened. Falling into an inadvertent genuflect, the jester found his own sword crossed with the Rune Blade inches from his throat. The emperor clapped in praise.

"It's just as I thought. Your rage and your pain are your strength." Gestahl deliberated a moment longer. "…Kill him."

Celes' head snapped up. "What?"

"You wanted him dead, didn't you? Avenge Leo's death and unleash the power of your destiny. Kill him. Now."

Unexpectedly, Celes' anger softened. "Leo once told me power only breeds war..."

The woman stared down at Kefka, contemplation written on her face. Locke watched this exchange, and he knew that in that moment, whether she realized it or not, Celes changed, forsaking the blackness in her heart.

She threw her right hilt-holding fist forward into Kefka's temple, and the blow knocked him unconscious. Turning wearily to her liege, Celes let the second sword fall from her other hand.

"What is this?" Gestahl demanded. "I thought you wanted vengeance for Leo's—"

"But that's not what Leo would want," Celes interrupted.

"And you, kitten? What do you want?"

She lowered her head, her voice no more than a whisper. "…To never have been born."

A mixture of sadness and anger shaded Gestahl's eyes. "You don't know how much it pains me to hear that, Celes." He raised a hand, and magic swirled about his fingertips. "I'm going to put you to sleep for a little while, and when you wake up, you will remember where your loyalties lie."

Chants were spoken on both sides, hands and swords glowed, but before either could act, a blade emerged from the emperor's chest. Behind him, Kefka rose to his full height and pushed the blade even deeper into his master.

"Isn't it amazing what a good knife in the back can do to even the most powerful of mages?" Kefka marveled.

Putting a foot on the man's spine, the jester kicked Gestahl off his sword. As the emperor fell dead to the ground, Celes dropped to her knees in anguish. Kefka spared her only a brief glance before turning to the stone deities.

"You know, the old fool was right; it's always been about power."

They all watched in horror as Kefka pushed one Statue out of its place of balance. Still not satisfied, he moved a second Statue, and the shimmering field between the Three grew erratic.

"Kefka, stop!" Terra pleaded.

Celes grimaced when an arc of energy lashed out from the Statues and knocked her friend down. The Returners had failed; with the equilibrium of the Statues disturbed, the world was doomed to fiery chaos. Kefka laughed gleefully.

"And there's no one in the world with the power to stop me now." Stepping into the new Triad, he raised his arms into the air, basking in the power of the Three Goddesses. "This is what a man becomes when he embraces Destiny!" he cried. "A god!"

Celes lowered her head, ready to surrender silently to the inevitable destruction, when she heard the ghostly echo of the past.

_What have I become, Leo?_

_You are who you choose to be, Celes. Never forget that._

The pendant around her neck took on a steady glow as if to remind her that she wasn't alone.

_You have yet to fulfill your purpose._

_In the end, all that matters is what you've done._

Rising unsteadily to her feet, Celes switched her gaze from Kefka to the Returners one last time.

_What defines us is what we choose to do _next

Though her vision was blurred, she threw her weight against the closest Statue with a swell of determination. Abruptly lowering his arms, Kefka screeched when he found himself pinned against the Goddesses, and he tried to force his way out. Just when it looked like he would succeed, Shadow dropped down from seemingly nowhere and pushed against a second Statue, keeping Kefka contained.

"This won't hold him!" the assassin yelled.

"It isn't meant to," Celes replied, straining against the growing pressure of the Goddesses' now clashing energies.

The Statues hummed dangerously, and a series of tremors wracked the floating isle.

Shadow called to the Returners. "Go! The airship is waiting!"

Terra was about to protest, but Edgar took her arm. "We have to move, now!"

As the king practically dragged the girl away, Locke hesitated only briefly, sparing a final glance to Celes before following his two friends.

The ground cracked and erupted around them, and the island shook. When they reached an opening in the stone leading to the airship below, Edgar ushered Terra to jump. After she landed safely, the king turned to the thief.

"Come on!"

Locke looked frantically over his shoulder. "What about them?"

"No time!"

An explosion rocked the continent, and light spewed from where the Statues stood. Edgar virtually threw Locke over the edge before leaping off himself. The two were helped to their feet once they landed, and the king looked up to see his brother, alive and healthy.

"Sabin!" As he embraced his twin, Edgar also saw Setzer, Cyan, Mog, Gau, and even Strago and Relm. "You're all alive!"

"Barely," the Sabin confirmed.

"Let's get out of here!" Setzer yelled from the wheel.

"Wait!" Relm looked up at the floating continent. "What about Shadow and Celes?"

"That thing is falling apart. We have to go!" Edgar insisted.

Locke shook his head adamantly. "No! We're not leaving them!"

"We don't have time to—"

"Edgar!" Terra cut in. "We'll wait."

"And if they aren't coming?"

A familiar ninja landed nimbly on the deck. "Then we'd have a death wish."

A blonde knight dropped down next, and Cyan immediately drew his katana. Locke quickly jumped between the two warriors.

"Now isn't the time for this, Cyan!"

"That whore ordered our deaths," the Doman hissed.

"Provoke me, I'll finish the job," Celes spat back.

Locke turned to the blonde. "Celes, you're not helping!"

"I never asked for you to step in to begin with!" she retorted icily.

The thief threw his hands up. "Fine! Then kill each other!"

Without warning from Setzer, the airship lurched onward, barreling away from the crumbling island, and Celes stumbled forward, right into Locke's arms. Holding her shoulders, he helped her balance. When she looked up, her eyes locked with his, and their anger was forgotten. Not knowing what drove him, the thief closed the distance between them.

"Incoming!"

Sabin's shout broke the two apart just as their lips touched, and both looked up just in time to see the beam of energy collide with the airship. Their world erupted in light.


	19. Solitary

_Disclaimer: Moogles will rain from the sky before I own this game. _

_Hey! I'm alive! I've been busy with school, not to mention a severe attack of laziness and writer's block. But, World of Ruin finally! I'm still crafting the whole plot sequence, but so far it looks as though there will be nine more chapters after this one._

_Admittedly, a few lines here are a repeat of my one-shot Setting of Two Suns. There is another _Lord of the Rings _line in here, and some stuff from _Buffy_. I'm sad, I know. There's also a near-direct line from T. S. Eliot's poem I posted in the first chapter._

Chapter Nineteen: Solitary

Every day was the same. Not that Cid could distinguish between the days anymore. There was light, and there was dark. Time no longer had meaning. Almost like a dream. Or perhaps like death would be more accurate.

Everything was dying. A veil of murky haze deprived the land of the sun's light, and the oceans were turning toxic. Plants withered. Animals collapsed and rotted. Maybe even _she_ was dead.

But no. She still breathed. Her heart still beat. Every so often, her eyelids would flutter as if struggling to open, though they never did. No. She had to be alive. It was the only thing keeping him sane. The only thing keeping him from the cliff his one-time companions had so eagerly embraced.

"The sleeper will wake," he muttered as he puréed a fish with seawater for the umpteenth time. A fit of coughs wracked his ailing body. He ignored the blood that painted his lips. "The sleeper will wake."

Cid gingerly scooped a bit of the fish paste onto his finger and passed it through the comatose woman's lips. Closing her jaw around it, he gently massaged her throat until her swallow reflex kicked in. Removing his finger, he dipped into the fish once again, and for hours, the tedious feeding continued.

"The world bleeds, but the sleeper will wake."

((ooo))

The swirling blackness slowly melted to soft grays. Eyes moved under closed lids. Fingers twitched.

Sound began to register: the distant swish of water. The bitter tang of a dry mouth, tainted by the lingering taste of sickly fish, served to draw her farther out of the monotonous nightmare.

A dry hacking cough breeched the near silence, followed by the clatter of some unknown object and a body crashing into a piece of furniture before collapsing to the floor. The coughing ceased, a door creaked shut, and her eyes flew open.

She couldn't see more than a light blur.

Panic set in.

She closed her eyes and rubbed at them instinctually. Reopening them, the blur slowly became more in focus. Against the complaints of her weak and stiff muscles, she struggled into a sitting position and looked around. She was in a small cottage, or shack, as would be more precise. The roof was partly caved in. The windows were broken. The northeastern corner of the wall was missing.

She pushed blonde hair out of her face, hair that was much longer than she remembered. Swinging her legs over the side of the cot, she planted her feet on the cold floor and stood up. Her legs nearly gave out, and she had to lean against the cot for support.

It was then she saw the fish.

Nearby, a crude platter of fish lay strewn across the floor. Amidst them, an arm. The arm led to a torso, the torso to legs, and also a head. A head with a face. A familiar face. A deathly gray face.

"Cid?" she croaked. With shaky steps, she drew closer. "Cid?"

She let the weakness win and sank to the ground, staring at him. Hesitantly, she reached out her hand towards the body. Inches away, she stopped. The hand dropped back to her side. Dazed, she pushed herself to her feet, wobbling unsteadily for a moment as she looked around. On the small desk, she saw a tattered parchment. Though her vision was still a bit blurry, she could still make out the words written in charcoal from the fireplace.

_My dear Celes,_

_As I write this, you're sleeping. You've been asleep for, as my best guess goes, about a year, and I'm not sure when or if you'll ever wake up. If this letter finds you, then my heart would fill with joy that you found you're way. But, it also means that I'm gone, and you'll find that the world has gone and changed on you. I wish the world was a better place for you to wake up in. By now, I'm sure you feel very much alone. But remember that you're never alone. You'll always have me. And the item I've been working on in the cellar. If I ever get it finished, you'll have your chance at freedom from this wretched island. If not… There were several others who washed up on shore here. Nearly driven insane, they made their peace up on the cliff on the north side of the island. A leap of faith. Perked 'em right up! Maybe I'm a little insane, too. But you kept me going this last year. And I can only pray this letter finds you someday, and finds you well._

_Love always,_

_Cid_

She dropped the parchment as she backed away, turning to stumble out the door. Walking aimlessly, she saw what the world had become. Dried. Poisoned. Dying. A wasteland and deathtrap to all living things. Except the cockroaches. Immune to the poison, they thrived on the dying. Colonized the waste.

"Is this Hell?" she asked numbly.

_No. But you will know it before the end._

Her shoulders sagged in disillusionment. "What end, Shiva?" There was no response. "Answer me!" The only sound was of the waves crashing into shore. "You were always there before!" She let out half a sob. "But now you are silent…"

Looking up, she saw she was at the base of the cliff Cid mentioned. A bitter laugh escaped her lips. Wearily, she followed the steep path to the top, thinking it would give her a different perspective of the world.

It didn't.

Aside from the small cay she was stranded on, there was nothing but brown ocean in sight, reflecting the endless brown sky. Another chuckle broke through the thick air, one that anyone watching would call insane, until it dissolved into sobs of despair. It quickly turned to anger.

"WHY?" she screamed at no one. "WHY MUST YOU TORMENT ME? WHY MUST I BE MADE TO SUFFER?" Her voice dropped to a choked whisper. "To suffer alone?"

A cold breath of wind caressed her cheek, lifting her eyes to the edge of the cliff.

"Leap of faith… Is this the answer?" She looked out over the desolate island. "The world's slowly ebbing away… Is this the way the world ends? Not with a bang, but a whimper…?"

She closed her eyes. A year. A year had passed since Kefka rose to godhood. A year since she failed. Failed to be a general, failed to be a rebel. Leo and Gestahl were dead. Who knew if Terra or Locke or any of the others had survived. Even Cid was gone. What was left for her now if not death? She already suffered lifelong torment, so if she truly was still alive and not in some hell dimension, how different could death be?

Unaware of the mournful tear that streaked down her face, she allowed herself to lean forward, feeling her feet leave the safety of the solid ground as her body plummeted. As she fell, she felt a strong zephyr of wind sweep past her.

((ooo))

A sweet melody caught Celes' ear, the gentle plucking of a harp pervading the ethereal mist. It took her a moment to realize the voice humming the melody of the strings was her own. The reflection in the mirror mocked her as she tied a ribbon in her hair, but when she looked up, it wasn't her face she saw. A tower rose before her.

A breeze caught her gray cloak as she looked down on Thamasa. The village was rebuilt, but the specters of flames raged on. The crackling of burning wood grated against her ears, turning to a high drone. A beam of black light leapt from the tower, scorching the land, and the buzz grew shrill. Her fingers rubbed her forehead in an attempt to appease the static noise. When two hands came down onto her shoulders, an image of Kefka's face flashed in her mind, and she jumped. At Locke's touch, the buzzing dissipated, and the flames evaporated, but the ache still remained.

"Are you all right?" She mumbled an incoherent response to the man behind her, and the thief leaned over her shoulder to peer into her face. "Celes, you're shaking."

Even as his breath tickled her neck, she looked down to the sword in her hand, the obsidian blade reflecting flames that were not there.

"It's the Ragnarok."

A prick in her arm drew her attention. Looking down, she saw the sixteen-gauge needle disappear into her limb. As the fluorescent blue liquid seeped out into her vein, she grew cold.

Looking up, Celes watched as a gold circlet descended down on a girl's head. The young one struggled against the restraints imprisoning her in the chair, but the hand holding the crown just laughed. One the metal came to rest across her forehead, the girl's emerald eyes blazed crimson.

Another sharp pain made itself known. Dropping her gaze from Terra's flaming eyes, Celes was hardly surprised to see the arrow sticking out of her chest. The sunlight wavered, and the chill spread. Her rapidly clouding eyes lifted to the sky to where a form in black stared down at her over his crossbow. She visibly flinched in recognition of the assassin and opened her mouth to speak, but no words came as she fell.

A man stumbled and fell face first into the snow. His crude Narshe Guard uniform did little to protect him against the freezing powder as he desperately reached for his rifle. The iron beast behind him neither slowed nor changed course, and the ground trembled. The man looked over his shoulder and saw the beast overhead. Just as his fingers touched the cold metal of his weapon, all went black.

Her vision faded as her head hit the brick wall. Her chains held pulled taut, and the guards sneered. She tried to whisper an incantation, but found she had no voice. Outside, a hailstorm battered the rooftops and pavement, each frozen stone sending a spectrum of sparks dancing over wet stone. A shadow fell across her, and her manacles dropped from her wrists.

Columns of smoke distorted the red sky, rising above the web of iron and steel of an industrial metropolis. The drone of an airship in the distance permeated the smog, and from amidst the dense pillars and steel jungle raced the blimp-shaped vessel, pursued doggedly by several smaller crafts. Without taking his eyes off the horizon ahead of him, the silver-haired pilot withdrew a trio of razor-sharp metal cards from within his trench coat. The scout ship closest to the deck combusted as the projectiles struck one of its twin engines with flawless accuracy.

The aerial chase slowed to a crawl, and the columns of steam turned to white marble, the billowing pollution hardening to accentuating streaks of gray. An all-encompassing glow radiated from a seemingly unknown source, bathing the entire white hall in the purest of light.

Celes blinked. "Am I dead?"

Squinting through the brightness, she spotted a familiar silhouette. His back was turned as he appeared to be looking for someone, but the careless blonde hair and travel-worn jacket were unmistakable. She almost called his name but stopped.

His bandana was missing.

Hearing a quiet rustle behind her, Celes turned, shocked to see herself standing mere steps away at a floor-to-ceiling window, the operatic ball gown gracing her figure. The doppelganger stared out the clear glass, simply waiting.

Footsteps echoed in the hall.

The soprano turned towards the approaching thief, and the vision of the gown faded. Celes threw herself into Locke's arms, and a warm gust of wind stirred the Thamasan mist, whipping her cloak around the two of them.

A rumble shook the ground.

Celes lifted her head from the thief's chest, her eyes focused on the tower in the distance. Two gods rose up from the structure, the smaller a mere fly to the gargantuan titan.

"Locke…"

Noting the worry in her voice, Locke turned his attention to the horizon, though still holding her close. Seeing just empty plains under the darkening sky, he turned back to her, close enough that his nose brushed against her cheek.

"There's nothing there."

His whisper did nothing to calm her, and Celes' eyes remained locked on the vision. Beads of sweat lined her brow, and her breathing increased. All of her stress and anxiety collected and pooled and dropped so that her stomach lurched. Locke pressed his lips to the flesh just beneath her ear, and the built-up tension released as the tower exploded in a column of light.

((ooo))

Her eyes flew open. She coughed and gagged, forcing the fluid out of her lungs. Sobbing in despair and wincing in pain, she started to crawl out of the water and up the sandy bank, but she collapsed onto her stomach. Salty waves of water rushed up and around her, stinging, biting, and burning her open wounds, compelling her claw her way forward, reminiscent of when she suffered the Gauntlet.

Just when the pain was becoming too much to bear, Celes felt a cool hand lift her chin. A strangely revitalizing chill ran through her body, and the pain subsided. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a familiar figure of iridescent blue kneeling next to her.

"Why can't you just let me die?"

_Your destiny awaits you._

"You speak of my destiny, but I failed! I failed everyone. I failed Leo, I failed Cid, I failed Terra and Locke…I failed you… Why does everyone always abandon me when I need them most?"

_No one abandoned you._

The image of the ice goddess faded to the form of a seagull. A discolored piece of blue cloth was tied to its leg.

_You took your leap of faith, Child. Now you must choose to be reborn._

"This… _This_ is my rebirth?"

_Put aside the general. Become who you were born to be._

((ooo))

The last of the dirt was shoveled back into place over the fresh mound. The shovel, earlier found in the cabin's cellar, dropped to the ground with an audible clang against the dry cracked earth. A crude headstone sat at the top of the mound.

Celes stared at the grave, her face void of expression. For a moment, her eyes shifted to the second, shallower hole she had dug. Holding back a sigh, she put her Imperial uniform on the floor of the hollow, and, with a more notable hesitation, she laid her Rune Blade almost reverently across the black armor. Sweeping the dirt over the items with her hands, she stood, her dagger in hand—the only personal belonging left unburied besides her pendant, a silver ring, and a simple tunic.

Wordlessly, she turned to the base of the northern cliff, just paces away, and once again began the climb to the top. At the summit, she looked out over the endless ocean.

"I'm sorry, Shiva. I'm not sure I can be that person…not yet…"

She looked down at the dagger in her hand and then reached up to pull her hair back. With a smooth stroke, she sliced through the golden tresses, letting the remaining fall back to just above her shoulders. The cut strands dropped out of her hand, carried out to sea by the wind.

Making her way back to the beach in front of the shack, Celes pushed the raft Cid had crafted into the water. With a final glance over her shoulder at the solitary island, she gave a final shove and lifted herself onto the raft, surrendering her fate to the ocean currents.

_Author's notes: Confusing? Good. It should be. I was watching the FMV "For the Lovers" from the FF Anthology, and this just sort of came to me. After jumping, Celes enters a delirious state and sees both the past and what she perceives to be the future. FYI, a 16-gauge needle is traditionally used in horses and other large animals—it's thick._


	20. Familiar Faces

_Disclaimer: Anyone who claims ownership to Final Fantasy (or my story for that matter) will be beaten to death with a shovel. "A vague disclaimer is nobody's friend... Have fun!"—Willow Rosenberg of Buffy the Vampire Slayer._

_I was going to take this chapter further, but I figured I'd better post something for you guys before you start hunting me down :) The storyline is kind of boring right now, but I promise the mystery, plot, and drama will pick up again soon._

Chapter Twenty: Familiar Faces

A brown form padded quietly alongside his master. Before the world died, he would have chased anything that moved. Really, that hadn't changed; the problem was there _wasn't_ anything that moved. So the animal settled for obediently following the human while keeping a twitching nose out for any sign of life. His master took him on these treks every week, searching for potentially useful debris that often washed up on shore.

They were near the coast now. Even above the stench of rot that drenched the valley, the dog could smell the sour saltiness of the sea, but beyond that… The dog stopped dead in his tracks, ears perked and nose tilted into the wind. The owner let out a surprised cry when the dog suddenly took off in the direction of the rocky beach.

The man ran after as fast as his legs would carry him to see what had caught the dog's interest. Just over a small dune, the coastline became visible. What he saw was a virtual goldmine.

Two logs, roughly a foot in diameter, along with a half dozen other planks of wood had beached. As he neared, the man saw that a couple of the planks were tied together. It looked as though this was the remains of a crude raft.

A bark followed by frantic whining drew his attention. About twenty paces from the wreckage, the dog was working itself into a frenzy as it eagerly sniffed an indistinguishable object. After dragging his find well out of the ocean waves' range, the man made his way over to the dog. The object took form, and the man uttered a mournful curse.

It was the body of a woman.

Just as the man started wishing he had brought his shovel, he realized the dog was still pawing at the woman and nudging her with his nose.

His tail was wagging.

The man gently rolled the woman onto her back and swept aside the matted blonde hair. The dog immediately attacked her face with his tongue. The man's curse was now made in relief.

She was breathing.

((ooo))

She awoke with a start, flailing about as if drowning. When her senses finally caught up with her mind, she realized she was not in water. In fact, she was quite dry, a welcome change from the days she spent being pounded by the merciless ocean current.

Sitting up, she saw that she was in a small but comfortable bedroom and wearing a fresh tunic. The inviting smell of cooking meat seeped into the room. She let herself fall back into the pillows with a soft _thud_, allowing her arms to dangle over either side. Staring at the ceiling, she began to contemplate her situation.

Before she got too far, though, she felt something cold and wet prod her right hand. It was quickly followed by something warm and moist brushing her palm. Barely even lifting her head to peer over the edge of the bed, she was met by the sight of soft brown eyes and a happily wagging tail.

She blinked, indifferent.

Two giant paws landed on either side of her extended arm. A pink tongue, drool dripping off abundantly, lolled out of the animal's mouth as he panted excitedly. The tail wagged even harder so that the dog's entire body swayed with it.

Her lips curled up ever-so slightly.

As if sensing some sort of acknowledgment, the dog let out a bark, and moments later the door to the room opened. A clean-shaven man in his thirties poked his head in and smiled when he took in the scene.

"I was wondering when you'd wake up. You were breathing okay when I found you, so I figured you'd be all right." He walked into the room. "I'm Jesse. Do you know where you are?"

She glanced around, noting the bold and sturdy architecture of the house. "I'd guess Albrook."

He nodded in confirmation. "How about your name?"

A flicker of fear flashed in her eyes. Although she supposed her circumstances weren't dire—she could have been in Tzen, or worse, Maranda—she wasn't sure how people would react if she was recognized. After a short-lived inner debate, she answered truthfully, however quietly.

"Celes."

When she looked up to meet Jesse's gaze, she found only a kind smile. If he knew who she was (and Celes found it hard to believe he wouldn't), he didn't show it.

"Well, Celes, the doctor says you check out fine, though he's amazed you didn't have hypothermia."

"I don't chill easily," she murmured, and Jesse nodded as if he understood her meaning.

"The missus is cooking up a roast in hopes that you'll join us for dinner."

"Um…I…" Celes suddenly wondered where all of her training in diplomacy went.

"Mashed potatoes, creamed corn, and fresh-out-of-the-oven biscuits," he added enticingly.

The blonde's stomach growled, and she realized just how hungry she was. "Of course. Thank you."

Minutes later, Celes was seated at the dining room table. Despite her discomfort with her current state of affairs, she was dismayed to find herself fidgeting with her gauntlet and squirming slightly in her chair, quite unbecoming a person of her military conditioning.

Jesse came back into the room from the kitchen, a short stocky brunette trailing behind him. "Celes, this is my wife, Eleanor."

The former general stood from her chair out of politeness and nodded in acknowledgment. A little girl no older than five peeked her head out from behind her mother.

Jesse grinned. "And this is our daughter, Allie. We don't have guests very often, so she's a little shy," he explained.

"Why don't the three of you sit yourselves down, and I'll bring out dinner," Eleanor said. "Celes, I hope you like roasted buffalax."

"Sounds wonderful."

Little was said while they ate. Celes noticed that neither Jesse nor Eleanor asked much about her past, for which she was grateful. They simply asked where she was from, and she could honestly reply 'from around these parts.' Allie was indeed shy, refraining from saying anything and excusing herself from the table when she was done eating. In contrast, the dog didn't stray far from the houseguest's feet, periodically nudging her leg in hopes of receiving a table scrap.

Though she enjoyed eating a real meal for the first time in a year, Celes was becoming anxious to be on her way.

"I must thank you for the meal, and of course for bringing me into your home."

"Think nothing of it, dear," Eleanor replied. "Even through the changing times of war and peace and destruction, one must never lose the gift of hospitality, lest we become as barbaric as—"

"Eleanor!" Jesse interrupted. "I thought we all agreed to never speak that hellgod's name."

The woman scoffed. "Sitting at the top of that tower throwing his Light of Judgment around doesn't make him a god."

Celes shook her head in confusion. "I'm sorry, I must have hit my head at some point. Who are you talking about?"

The married couple looked at the former general like she was crazy. Eleanor answered. "Why…Kefka, of course."

"Kefka…" Celes repeated unsurely. "…is still alive. And this tower?" she inquired.

The couple blinked in disbelief. Without a word, Jesse drew back the drapes from a northern-facing window, and Celes approached uncertainly. Even at a distance of nearly fifty miles away, the mammoth tower could be seen spiking into the low-altitude swirl of black clouds.

Celes nearly gasped.

It was the tower from her dream.

"Are you all right, Celes?" Jesse asked in concern. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I, uh…I…I have to go. I'm sorry, but...I have to go."

"Go where, dear?" Eleanor wondered. "The nearest city is a hundred miles from here, and chocobos are rare down here."

"Hundred miles?"

"All the smaller townships have either been destroyed or abandoned," Jesse explained. "Refugees in the South came here, and those in the North went to Tzen."

"Tzen…"

"Yeah. Wait…you aren't thinking about going there, are you? You'd have to cross the Deadlands, and I've only heard of one person crazy enough to try it on foot. Looking for his friends, or something."

That tidbit of information peaked Celes' interest, but she didn't inquire further.

"I…I really do have to go," she insisted. "I'm sorry."

Eleanor sighed in defeat. "Well, if you must, at least let me pack you some food for the journey. You'll need it."

Celes relented with a nod. "Thank you."

((ooo))

She traveled from what could only loosely be termed sunup to sundown. The permanent haze in the air gradually grew thicker and her boots began to stick in the copious black tar that swathed the land the closer to the tower she got. She noted that the soaring mountain ranges and rolling hills, the shady forests and sunny meadows that once graced the Southern Continent had vanished. Even the few desert regions were nowhere to be seen. There was only one flat plain, the brown and black matching the sky and making it impossible to distinguish the horizon.

Squinting through the smog, Celes saw the tower was a haphazard formation of rock and steel and stone. A great chasm encircled the massive structure, easily a mile across. The knight dared to peer over the abrupt cliff's edge, but the rising steam and ash made it impossible to tell if there was a bottom to the abyss at all.

Blinking away the stinging from the near-acidic blend, she continued on. There wasn't a living thing in sight, and Celes was evermore grateful for the food Eleanor had packed up for her. When Tzen finally came into sight, three days (or so she guessed) had passed. She happened upon a well just outside of town and was delighted to find clean water within its depths. Apparently there was still the rare natural resource that hadn't been tainted by the Ruin.

After washing the ash and tar from herself and consuming the last of her food, Celes headed into the city, more than ready for a night's rest in comfortable surroundings.

The main street of Tzen was deserted. A nearby shop, looking to be in the process of repair, had a length of plywood hanging randomly on the side by only a single nail. A hammer, nails, and other tools lay carelessly strewn across the pavement below the ladder as if abandoned in a hurry.

A breath of wind picked up, and Celes barely caught the whispers of the far-off voices it carried. As she walked cautiously in that direction, the voices grew louder, more numerous, and more frantic.

"Cory!"

More panicked shouts followed, and Celes took off at a sprint towards the source. Several dozen people were gathered outside a badly damaged house.

"What's going on?"

An old woman answered her. "Danielle's little boy is trapped inside!"

When Celes returned her gaze to the house, she noticed a large figure standing under the supports of the structure, the only thing standing in the way of its total collapse.

"Sabin?"

The martial artist looked up, and despite the strain he was under, a large grin broke out across his face.

"Celes! Hey!" The house creaked. "I'd love to chat, but the kid's still in there." Sabin grunted with the weight. "Cel, you have to get him out. I can't hold it much longer."

After a moment's indecision, Celes kicked the front door down and ran inside.

"Hurry!" Sabin shouted.

Celes nearly choked on the dust that hung in the air as she made her way through the living room. "Cory!" she called.

Room after room she checked, shouting the boy's name. Not finding him on the first level, she descended down into the basement.

"Cory!"

Celes stopped in her tracks, straining her ears. She could have sworn she heard a clicking sound. She called again. This time, she heard a faint sniffle followed by a cough. As she made her way in that direction, the clicking returned, but she made herself focus on the whimper up ahead. Opening a door, she found the child huddled in a closet.

"Cory? It's going to be alright." She extended her hand. "I'm going to get you out of here, but you have to come with me _now_."

The boy grasped her hand and allowed Celes to pull him out of the closet. When the knight turned to lead him out, she felt a tug on her hand and noticed Cory was refusing to move.

"What's wrong?"

He pointed at something behind the blonde with a fearful expression, and Celes turned to follow his gaze. About a dozen basketball-sized creatures, looking like a cross between a termite and a crab, were scuttling towards the pair. The earlier sounds registered in Celes' mind: mandibles and claws clacking together. Automatically, she reached for her sword, only to have her hand find nothing to grasp. The number of creatures had doubled, and the former general fought the urge to panic.

"Okay, I have a better idea." She grabbed Cory by both shoulders and pushed him in front of her. "Run!"

Keeping a hand on the boy's shoulder, Celes steered him around falling debris as they ran back through the house. More and more of the termite-crabs were abandoning their gnawing of the building's foundation to chase down the two humans, their claws scraping across the wood floors and their jaws gnashing together hungrily.

Moments after the two reached the ground level, the roof creaked and groaned, and the brick walls began to crumble. The supports holding the house up snapped, and the ceiling fell several feet. Celes dropped to her knees, pulling the boy down under her cloak. The pendant hanging from her neck shined brightly through the stirring dust.

The knight wrapped her hand around the glowing gem. "Diamond dust protect us."

Just as the house came tumbling down, the air surrounding the pair shimmered and swirled.

((ooo))

Sabin cursed harshly as he picked himself up, brushing debris off of his shoulders. Looking back at the house. He saw it was completely leveled.

"CELES!"

The martial artist dug frantically through the rubble, throwing aside sections of brick and roofing like they were cardboard.

"Celes! Gods, please let her be all right," he muttered. "Celes!"

Not fifteen paces from where the entrance of the house used to be, Sabin found a large block of ice under a portion of roof. He pounded on the frozen prison, seeing a distorted form huddled inside. Seconds ticked by with no reaction. He was just beginning to consider using a blitz when the ice shattered. The martial artist watched in relief as Celes stood unharmed, Cory safe under her cloak.

"You couldn't have held it twenty more seconds?" the knight asked blithely.

Sabin chuckled as he picked the boy up and carefully made his way out of the ruins, Celes right behind him. Cheers arose from the onlookers when the bodybuilder reunited Cory with his mother. Notably, though, the former general strayed from the crowd as if hiding from their praise. When Sabin finally managed to tear himself away from the ever-grateful citizens, he approached the blonde as she sat on the stone steps nearby, fiddling with the silver ring on her right thumb.

"Danielle and Cory send their thanks."

Celes glanced over in the mother and son's direction but otherwise said nothing. Sabin sat down next to the blonde and put a hand on her shoulder.

"It's good to see you're alive. I was beginning to think none of you guys made it."

"Same here," she admitted quietly.

Sabin let out a bark of laughter. "What? You think a minor thing like the end of the world was going to—" He suddenly broke off and stared at Celes in disbelief. "…You cut your hair."

It took her a moment to catch up with the sudden change in his train of thought. When she did, Celes slowly shook her head with the tiniest smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Glad you have your priorities straight," she teased. "So, you haven't seen anyone else?"

Sabin shook his head solemnly. "Not yet. But, hey! Maybe that'll change. I mean, here you are. Maybe the two of us will have more luck together."

"Sabin…" She hesitated.

"What?"

"I…I don't think I'm going to go with you." A look of hurt passed over the martial artist's face, and Celes quickly explained. "I don't think I'm…that I'm in a place where I can just hop back in the gang and…and pretend some of that stuff never happened."

Sabin bowed his head, then nodded in understanding. "I guess I get that, but will you at least think about coming along?"

"I don't know…"

"Which way are you headed?"

"Some direction that isn't south. I just came up from Albrook."

Sabin simply nodded, silently wondering why he hadn't run into the blonde while he had stayed in the port city.

"Nikeah is about a two weeks' walk north of here," he said finally. "Ships still run between there and South Figaro. There's not really anywhere else to go."

Celes blinked. "How can we get to Nikeah from here? That's a completely different continent…"

"It's a different world, Cel. Have you been asleep this past year?" he joked. When she looked away, it dawned on him. "Oh gods, you have been."

"Coma," she explained softly.

"…So what was that like?"

"Imagine the worst nightmare you've ever had and not being able to wake up from it."

"Oh."

"You were about to explain how to get to Nikeah from here," she reminded, trying to steer away from the previous awkward subject.

"Right. The Serpent Trench." Sabin received a blank stare. "…is above water now," he finished.

Celes looked at the ground while she tried to process the information. "That doesn't even make sense. The Serpent Trench is a current of water. How could it…?"

"Earthquakes and massive ocean-floor land upheavals?" he guessed. "I don't know, but it's there."

Celes was silent for a long while. Albeit reluctantly, she finally gave him the answer he was waiting for. "Look, I won't make any promises, but…for now…I'll come with you." Sabin nodded in satisfaction. "First, though, I have to buy a sword."

Sabin looked at her in alarm. "What happened to your Rune Blade?"

"I…lost it," she lied.

"Oh man. Doesn't that mean you can't Runic?"

"Pretty much." She sighed. "You wouldn't happen to have any gold on you, would you?"

He grinned. "Of course."

((ooo))

Celes groaned as she surveyed the selection of weapons displayed. "Ugh. Crap...crap…" She picked up a blade that looked promising, then set it back. "More crap. Gods, all these swords are worthless!"

Sabin smiled sheepishly at the shop owner, who sent an offended glance their way. "Celes, you can't expect to find the same craftsmanship that your Rune Blade had." He pointed to the wall behind the register. "Look. There's a 'Specials' collection over there."

The clerk forced a smile. "These blade each have an elemental magical quality."

Celes narrowed her eyes. "How were they forged?"

"They were developed as experimental weapons in the Magitechnology labs of Vector, before the Ruin that is. I believe they were forged by tempering a normal iron blade with stones of magical origin."

"Magicite?" Sabin whispered to Celes.

The knight nodded but remained quiet.

"Hey, perfect!" the martial artist exclaimed, trying to be enthusiastic. "Blizzard Edge." Then, at Celes' questioning glance, "Unless you _want_ the Flame Sabre."

The knight sent him a withering look before she gestured grudgingly to the clerk. "I'll take the Blizzard Edge."

"Excellent choice, madam."

Fighting the urge to snort at the title the salesclerk bestowed on Celes, Sabin nodded towards the shop next door. "Armor?"

"Nah. Only slows me down. I just need a cloak."

((ooo))

After a night's rest at the inn, Celes and Sabin headed east for a day, then continued northeast when they reached the isthmus connecting the Southern Continent to the Serpent Trench. As they traveled, the martial artist explained to his companion what had been happening the last year. In his madness, Kefka had unleashed the Old Ones unto the earth: the legendary eight dragons of Earth, Wind, Fire, Water, Ice, Thunder, Poison, and Light; the winged terror Doom Gaze; the scourge Phunbaba. Kefka used his newly acquired power to ravage the land and scorch the sky with his Light of Judgment. It was rumored that a group of men corrupted by the jester's influence gathered together and formed a cult, worshipping him as though he were a true god.

Sabin had been traveling across the continents as best he could in search of the Returners. He recently received word that Figaro had become stuck under the desert sands, and he was on his way to figure out what happened.

"I used the castle a lot to go between South Figaro and Kohlingen," he explained. "Quite a feat considering the Gulf of Zozo separates them completely now."

If Celes was perturbed by the flood of information, she didn't show it. The blonde stayed her usual taciturn self, especially reluctant to speak of the events on the Solitary Island.

By the end of the second day of their travel, they reached the junction of the Serpent Trench. Both agreed it was a good spot to set up camp for the night.

Celes pointed east. "What's on the other end?"

Sabin followed her gaze. "Not sure. It gets swampy down that way, so I haven't gone too far to find out."

Time passed slowly as they sat around the campfire Sabin had conjured. Celes absently fidgeted with her silver ring. The martial artist, perhaps from lack of anything else going on, happened to notice the quickly-developing nervous habit.

"You okay?"

She didn't look up. "Fine."

"You sure? I've never known you to fidget before. Thought that was breaking one of the commandments of generalhood or something…"

His joke caused the knight to crack a tiny smile, but it quickly faded. "Not a general anymore."

Sabin nodded at her excuse. "Ah. Can I see it? The ring?"

The martial artist noted a bit of uncertainty, but Celes eventually removed it from her thumb and passed it over to him. It was a wide ring, the two outer bands joined by a zigzagging braid in the middle. At one point, the bands converge into a solid plate, where a tiny eagle is raised. Something about the bird was agonizingly familiar to Sabin, but he couldn't place it.

"It's a nice ring. Where'd you get it?"

Celes glanced at the item he held, then stared back into the fire. "…It's my Imperial ring. Only the three generals wore them…"

Sabin looked at the former officer, his expression unreadable. "I never noticed it before."

"I didn't wear it after Locke got me out of South Figaro," she explained flatly.

The martial artist hesitated. _Not a general anymore,_ he thought. "…And now?"

She shrugged. "Thumb feels weird without it."

Sabin managed a short laugh and handed the ring back to her. "I know that feeling. It's like my claws are living extensions or something." He paused. "Well, I'm going to turn in."

Celes stared at the ring in her hand, old uncertainties surfacing unbidden in her mind. "Yeah…"

((ooo))

When Sabin awoke then next morning, Celes was gone, with no sign of the direction she took evident. "No promises," he echoed sadly. His mood downtrodden, he set off to the West towards Nikeah, wondering if he would see the blonde general again.

_Author's note: The "you cut your hair" thing is a joke from _Buffy_ that will continue into the next couple chapters. I just couldn't resist. The Imperial ring kind of came out of nowhere, I know, but that's the way it goes sometimes, I guess. While you wait for the next chapter, help yourself to a nice heaping plate of roasted buffalax! Mmm._


	21. Solitary II

_Disclaimer: Don't own it._

_Another chapter! I'm on spring break, so I'm trying to get some solid writing done. Thanks for reviewing! Glad you guys still enjoy my work._

Chapter Twenty-one: Solitary II

She was tired; it'd been so long since she had picked up a sword. But she had to. The children needed her.

She struck, but the iron sword simply bounced harmlessly off. The blue scales along its shoulders and back was like steel, and she was too weak to puncture the thick leathery green hide. The burly demon's spiked tail thrashed about, threatening to impale her if she got too close. She swung her blade again, but still it was in vain.

The demon emitted a deep throaty chuckle at the green-haired woman's futile attempts. He batted away another attack, and the sword flew out of her hands. When he swept his massive clawed hand at her, she barely managed to duck out of the way. Catching her off guard, his muscular tail rammed into her chest, easily knocking her twenty feet through the air. After a hard landing, the woman tried to push herself up and utter an incantation, but she inevitably collapsed and didn't move.

With a satisfied rumble, the demon stomped towards her, his tongue eagerly licking his bared razor-sharp teeth. He stopped abruptly when a rock hit him in the head. Turning around, he snarled at the cloaked form that stood calmly a dozen paces away. The demon threw himself into a dead run, an awkward feat for so large a creature.

Even as the ground shook from the mass of the approaching giant, the figure only watched stoically from beneath the hood of her cloak. At the last possible second before the demon trampled her, the warrior lunged forward, her sword whistling forth from within her cloak and slicing through the bulky abdomen. Whirling around as the demon passed, the warrior struck a second time, cleaving through his upper torso.

The warrior, once again calm as she sheathed her sword, glanced over her shoulder at her foe. The woman lying prone on the ground stirred as the demon fell to the ground, cloven in three. Walking over to the green-haired woman and kneeling by her side, the warrior drew back her hood.

Terra looked up into familiar blue eyes. "Celes?" The blonde nodded. "Wha…where's Phunbaba?"

Celes looked in that direction. "There…and there…and…there."

The younger woman breathed a sigh of relief before she passed out. A young man no older than the two women ran out of one of the less damaged houses, worry etched across his ragged face.

"Terra!" He switched his gaze between the two women and the pieces of Phunbaba in confusion. Shaking his head, his eyes rested on the newcomer. "Is she all right?"

"You let her fight that thing alone?" Celes nearly growled.

The man was taken aback by the blonde's hostility. "I…I had to stay with Katrin and, and the children."

"And if that demon had gotten past Terra? Were you planning on fighting him by _your_self?"

"I…I'm…I'm sor—"

"Save it. Help me get her inside."

Once Terra had been placed in her bed, Celes ran a hand down the side of the girl's head, letting her thumb stroke her now bruised cheek. Abruptly, the blonde turned on her heel and strode out of the room to meet the anxious gazes of Duane and Katrin.

"She'll be all right. She just needs to rest."

"I don't know how we can thank you," Katrin said.

The knight waved it off. "Don't worry about it."

"Not to be rude or anything," Duane began, "but who are you?"

"A friend of Terra's."

Katrin's eyes lit up. "You must be Celes." The blonde nodded. "Terra speaks of you often. She's quite fond of you."

Celes looked away, her actions on the Floating Isle still haunting her thoughts. The look of betrayal on Terra's face, the mage's screams of anger, and her own casual dismissal of it all rang clear in her mind.

"I'm going to go get some air," the blonde told them. "Will you come find me when she wakes up?"

"Of course," Katrin agreed.

Celes retreated upstairs. Just as she reached the door, she felt a tug on her cloak. Looking down, she noticed a young boy about Relm's age. The boy held out his hand, holding a gem with a yellowish glow.

"Found it by Phunbaba," he explained. "Thought you should have it 'cause you cut 'im to pieces."

Seeing the hopeful glint in the child's wide eyes, Celes forced herself to take the magicite. "Thank you."

His gift given, the boy darted back down the stairs. For a long moment, Celes stared at the stone. She sensed the spirit of a great wolf pacing restlessly within the jewel prison. _Fenrir_, she whispered. She'd have to give it to Terra later…

She walked out the door and made her way to the water's edge, which was now located in the middle of Mobliz. The two dogs that seemed to be standing guard woofed quietly as if in acknowledgment of her presence, but they otherwise ignored her. The clouds were thinner where Mobliz was, and the silhouette of the sun could be seen dipping low in the sky.

So Terra was alive, she thought to herself, and Sabin was alive. How many of the others were? Celes shook her head. What did it matter? It's not like she had any intention to seek them out…

Her thoughts were interrupted when she was hugged from behind. "Terra." She looked over her shoulder at the green-haired woman and quirked a small grin. "You're up sooner than I expected."

Terra shrugged as she let go of the blonde. "Lucky, I guess." She smiled warmly at her friend. "How are you, Celes?"

"Alive. You?"

"Pretty much the same. Love the hair, by the way."

"Popular opinion." Terra silently questioned with a raised brow. "I ran into Sabin," Celes clarified.

"Ah." Terra frowned. "But he's not with you?"

"We were headed in different directions." Celes sighed inwardly. It wasn't a _complete_ lie. "I haven't seen anyone else, either."

The mage looked at the ground. "Oh."

A long silence ensued. Celes opened her mouth to speak, to apologize for the things she had done, but she stopped herself. Honestly, she was afraid of how Terra would react. A year may have passed, but she found it difficult to believe she could be forgiven so easily.

As if reading her thoughts, Terra answered the question for her.

"I missed you, Cel."

The blonde looked away and took a breath. Her response was quiet. "I missed you too, Ter."

The half-Esper looked up into the face of the taller woman, watching as Celes stared off at the horizon. The blonde appeared relaxed, but Terra could sense some inner turmoil that had yet to be resolved. Her almost serene smile faded.

"You're heading out soon." It wasn't a question.

Slowly, Celes met her friend's emerald gaze and nodded once. She then thought a moment. "Why don't you come with me?"

Terra quickly looked away in shame. "I…can't. The children, they…they lost their parents in the Ruin. All of them. Duane and Katrin are the only adults that survived, and they're barely eighteen. I…I can't just leave them. They need me." She shook her head. "I'm not sure I could fight anymore anyway…" She looked Celes in the eye. "I'm sorry, but I just can't."

Celes dropped her gaze. "If you're sure…"

"Yes, I am. But…will you stay for a while? At least a few days before you go?"

The blonde bit back her initial inclination to decline. Despite certain rough times, Terra was still the only living person Celes considered a true friend.

"…Sure."

And stay she did. There wasn't much to do, so to pass the time, Celes agreed to teach Duane how to handle a sword. Though neither a strong nor dexterous man, he had a determination that made up for what he lacked. When she wasn't busy with Duane, the former general was usually bombarded by the dozen or so orphans, ranging from age three to age eleven.

"Tell us a story about knights!" Adam insisted.

The ex-Imperial donned a look of near panic. "Knights…"

"And dragons!" Lisa added.

"And…dragons…?" the blonde repeated, unsure.

"AND CLOWNS!" Billy nearly shrieked.

Celes sent a questioning glance to Terra. "What have you been telling them?" The mage just shrugged, and Celes relented. "Um…okay. Well, once upon a time, there was…a slave girl, whose name was—"

"Celes?" Manda guessed.

The blonde blinked. "…Yes. Her name was Celes, and—"

"Is she pretty?" Mickey interrupted.

"Um…does that matter?"

"Of course it matters, silly!" Sarah exclaimed.

Celes stared at the children in disbelief. "Okay…yes, she was pretty, and she was forced to work for the evil King Edgar." The storyteller ignored Terra's snort. "King Edgar didn't allow Celes to have any friends at all, and Celes obeyed him without question. But there was a problem."

The orphans sat enthralled. "What?"

"The king's knight was in love with Celes."

Caitlin piped up. "Is he handsome?"

The blonde narrator held back a sigh. "Very. His name was Sir—"

Terra coughed a name sounding suspiciously like 'Locke.'

"—Leo," Celes corrected, sending a pointed glare in Terra's direction. The mage simply grinned, and the storyteller rolled her eyes.

Terra watched as Celes told the rest of the tale and later got roped into acting it out at the end. The mage chuckled quietly; her friend was truly awkward around them; trying to follow their logic and respond to their spirited enthusiasm was difficult for her. Perhaps it was because Celes never got to be a kid herself. Relm seemed to be the only exception to this, Goddesses only knew why. A bond between mages maybe.

Terra's smile faltered. She knew the blonde warrior was itching to get back on the road and was only staying because the half-Esper asked her to. It was disheartening to realize Celes had a hard time being around people, though Terra could relate. No home, no family, unnatural abilities, and a heinous past didn't exactly amount to a social personality.

The sixth night of Celes' stay, Terra pulled her aside. "You know, if you want to leave, you can just leave."

The blonde feigned shock. "Why would I want to do that?"

"Because I know you, Celes. You've only been here a week, and already you're going crazy. Even if you don't show it."

"Terra—"

"You stayed for a while because I asked you to, and I'm grateful, but don't stay just because of me. I'll be fine here. Really."

The knight waited a while to speak. "…It's not that I don't want to stay…"

"But you can't," the mage finished.

Celes nodded. "I'm just…restless."

"Well, you've always been restless," Terra reminded teasingly. She sighed. "I wish I could come with you…"

"But you can't. I know, Ter."

"Yeah… Do you know where you're going?"

"Nikeah, for now."

"…When?"

"Sunrise." The blonde noticed Terra's eyes brimming with tears. "I'll come back…"

"I know."

Celes allowed herself to be drawn into a hug by the other woman, only slightly surprised by the chaste kiss that followed. Wordlessly, Terra retreated to her room with a soft goodnight to her friend. The blonde watched her go, and only after the door was closed did she whisper her own goodnight.

((ooo))

Celes muttered bitter curses under her breath as she once again traversed the marshes of the eastern Serpent Trench. She tried to stay in the shallowest parts, but every once in a while her foot would stray into deeper murk, and the sludge would splash up into her face or spill into her boot. She kept her cloak up and around her neck so as to at least keep _that_ dry. She toyed with the idea of freezing the bog and walking on top of it, but she knew she had to conserve her energy for the long passage to Nikeah.

Shortly after she reached the end of the marshes, she passed by the familiar junction between the Trench and the Southern Continent. She groaned. From what Sabin had said, she was looking at another week and a half of travel before she arrived in Nikeah.

The northern Serpent Trench had relatively more signs of life than anywhere else she had been. Mostly she saw small herds of mangy buffalax foraging the dry brittle grasslands, and a few colonies of skittish delta bugs popped up here and there. Traveling along the outskirts of a desert, she occasionally spotted living carcasses burrowing through the sand—the more elusive black dragons.

She was surprised when she came to a mountain range that stood in the middle of the narrow stretch of land. Though seemingly out of place, Celes couldn't see past the towering peaks to determine if something was nestled within the mountainous ring. Putting it out of mind, she continued on.

The port city of Nikeah was a welcome sight for the now worn traveler. With the money Sabin gave her, she was able to barter for a couple supplies and buy a ticket for the South Figaro bound ship. Upon reaching her cabin below deck, Celes carelessly threw her few belongings on the small table and fell face first into the pillow of her cot. Sleep overtook her in moments.

((ooo))

Stepping off the gangplank onto the dock, she had to suppress a shudder; it had been a long time since she was last in South Figaro.

Taking care to keep her distance from the mansion, Celes made her way to one of the decent cafes in the city. Sitting at the counter, she ordered a coffee. She grimaced at the bitter liquid as she took a sip; she never did like the stuff much.

A hand came down on her shoulder. "You want to keep that hand, I suggest you remove it before I do it for you," she warned automatically.

"End of the world hasn't changed you a bit," a voice noted in some amusement.

Celes recognized the muffled voice and looked over her shoulder. "Shadow."

"Not surprised?"

"Should I be?"

The assassin only grunted in response as he took the stool next to her. In afterthought, he gave her a second almost quizzical glance before turning to his drink.

"Haircut?"

The former general groaned. "I haven't gotten this much attention since I burned Maranda to the ground…"

The two sat in silence for some time. Finally, Celes' curiosity got the better of her.

"So, you just stopping by to say hello? Not really you're style…"

"Heard of the Striker?"

She suppressed a grin. "Not that I recall. Weapon?"

"Yes."

"Special?"

"Belonged to a…colleague…of mine."

"Sorry."

He shook his head. "Maybe the Coliseum," the mercenary murmured to himself. He rose from his seat. "Hope you find your way."

Celes raised an eyebrow, but didn't turn to him. "How'd you know I was searching?"

"Lucky guess. Until next we meet, Chere."

She chuckled and absently waved her hand towards him in farewell. After a while, she called to the attendant behind the counter. "Excuse me, do you know if Figaro Castle is up and running again?"

"Sure. Got fixed about almost two weeks ago. Won't surface on this side again for another couple days, though. Word is it gets stuck on something halfway to Kohlingen. Takes them a few extra hours to navigate around it."

"I see."

"There's a guide to the castle leaving tomorrow morning from the chocobo stables. I'd recommend it."

"Thank you."

Celes paid for her coffee and left the café, disappointed at having to stay the night in the city. Begrudgingly, she set out to find lodging.

((ooo))

Surprisingly, the sentries of Figaro didn't give her a second glance when she entered the castle. Still not wanting to risk recognition, though, she confined herself to her room, save for mealtime. During one such meal, rumors of a shifting wall in one of the prison cells happened to catch her attention. She ignored it at first, but when the castle finally submerged and began its shift west, Celes began to sense some kind of energy rising up from beneath the moving fortress.

As if drawn to the source of the sensation, she slinked down to the detention area when the castle started to shake from its forced immobilization. No prisoners being held meant no guards kept watch, and it wasn't hard for the knight to find the cell in question. The back wall was already cracked open, and Celes easily slipped through.

She entered what appeared to be an extensive catacomb leading further down into the earth. The glow of her pendant provided just enough light for her to make her way through the caves, and she moved quickly for fear of the castle moving on without her.

When the narrow tunnels opened into an vast cavern, Celes saw the impossible: an ancient castle, perfectly preserved for a thousand years under the earth's surface. Light somehow streamed in from an unknown source, illuminating the moss-covered stone. Walls were crumbled, watch towers were toppled, and large gaps were carved in the ground, but all damage had been caused during the War of the Magi a millennium before.

"Bet Locke would have a field day here," Celes mumbled in awe.

The entire cavern was bathed in a mystical aura, and the knight could swear she saw specters of the war fought so long ago: clashing swords of man and beast, raging flames from the Espers' power, collapsing foundations as the battles took their toll. Whispers of war drifted past Celes: a warrior's call, a commander's orders, a woman's cries.

She was drawn into the castle by the mystic current, walking ever forward as phantoms of the chancellor paced back and forth, the king's messenger dashed down the corridor, and the castle guards drew their swords to fend off an attack. Celes came into the Great Hall and swept her gaze across over the pure stone architecture of the magnificent hall. Her eyes fell on a statue standing before the throne.

_FLASH_

_An Esper warrior stood, sword in hand, opposite a dark and powerful sorcerer. They clashed in battle, but neither would fall. The sorcerer grew impatient, and his hands wove symbols in the air as he chanted his incantation. The warrior crouched slightly in preparation to attack, but the curse was already upon him. His skin hardened and his movements slowed as he succumbed to the spreading stone._

_FLASH_

A shadow of realization passed over Celes' face as she stood dwarfed by the nine-foot tall stone-encased Esper. A godly warrior, intimidating in the heavy battle armor that covered him head to toe and the tattered black cloak hanging from his shoulders. A helmet with menacing curved horns two feet long sat on his head. His face was chiseled and strong, but his eyes were frighteningly hollow. In his hand, as if ready to strike at any moment, was a wicked-looking sword that Celes assumed to be the Gungnir. Slung across his back was a broad shield with the emblem of a six-legged horse: Sleipnir.

Her hand lifted into the air, reverent in its reach to touch the statue's face. Mere inches away, though, Celes stopped. Seconds ticked by as she hesitated. Finally, she folded her fingers and withdrew her hand. She couldn't touch him. It wasn't right. Maybe if she…

Celes shook her head to clear the thought. It wasn't time.

Turning from the stone warrior, the blonde knight walked back through the Great Hall and out of the castle. She would come back, but now wasn't the time.

_Author's notes: Time for what? We're getting closer to the answer. In Norse mythology, the Gungnir is Odin's spear, but the game has him using a sword. Sleipnir is the name of Odin's horse. Teaser for next chapter: _

_Celes and Sabin watching Phoenix rise. "You may not be wanted, Celes, but you will be needed."_


	22. Phoenix

_Disclaimer: You don't own me. I mean, I don't own it…_

_Another chapter! That's three in two weeks. I'm on a roll! Sadly, though, my next semester of school starts now. Oh well. Keep reviewing and enjoy!_

Chapter Twenty-two: Phoenix

The Figaro library was an extensive collection. The history section alone had books on nearly everything one could imagine: bestiaries, world maps, Figaroan history, Doman history, Vectoran history and the rise of the Empire, countless lost civilizations of the past thousand years. The list was endless, and yet Celes couldn't find what she was looking for: specific accounts of the War of the Magi. She knew Vector had such records in its many databases, but Vector didn't exist anymore, and she had gone through most of those already anyway. She also assumed there would be texts in Thamasa, but she had no way to get there.

What she did find were several vague references to an ancient relic with life-restoring power, long thought lost to the world.

"Treasure hunter indeed," she muttered to herself.

She leaned back in her chair and pinched the bridge of her nose. She was wasting her time. In frustration, she stood from the table and walked out of the library. The castle would begin its shift back east soon, and she had to move on if she wanted to reach Kohlingen by nightfall.

((ooo))

Sabin paced restlessly. "Do you think it will work?"

Gau mimicked his pacing. "Shiny stone broken. No power left."

Edgar stared at the door to the herbalist's house. "I pray for Locke's sake it will."

"Indeed, the lad seems at his wit's end," Cyan agreed.

Relm looked up from her sketchpad. "What if it doesn't?"

"Life's a gamble," Setzer offered, shuffling a deck of cards. "You gotta take what you're dealt."

After a while, Edgar sighed. "The sun is going down…" he noted needlessly.

Sabin looked to the horizon, and that's when he saw a cloaked figure leaning against a small birch atop the hill adjacent to the house. Though her hood concealed her face, he recognized her straight away.

"Guys, I'll be right back."

When Edgar and Cyan followed Sabin with their eyes, they also noticed the figure. "And who art this newcomer?" the Doman wondered.

"No idea," the king answered.

Sabin approached casually. "Hey. Long time no see." He received a slight nod of acknowledgment. "Just passing through?" Another nod. "Good to see you're as chatty as ever," he teased.

"I was on my way here, and I saw the airship," she finally said. "Thought I'd see who was around."

"From a distance?"

"You know me." Celes was quiet for a moment. "So he found it."

"Locke? Yeah. The magicite was cracked, though, so we're not sure if it will…" He trailed off when a red mist rose from the house below. "…work."

The mist gained solidity, taking the form of a phoenix. Its broad wingspan stretched towards the heavens, and its flowing tail cascaded to the earth. Celes drew back the hood of her cloak, and Sabin thought he saw a trace of sadness in her otherwise hollow expression.

"You care about him, don't you?" he ventured gently.

Her gaze fell slowly.

Sabin wondered if her silence was her answer. He chose to stray from the subject. "Have you reconsidered joining us?"

Celes closed her eyes. "How can I face them? After all I've done?"

Sabin bowed his head. "We've all done things we're not proud of… Everyone has a dark side. It's what makes us human."

"Only human," she echoed, recalling a similar conversation she once had with Brandt. "What makes you so sure they'll just accept me back?"

"I can't say they will right away, but…" He paused, choosing his words carefully. "You may not be wanted, Celes, but you will be needed."

She didn't respond.

Suddenly, the Phoenix blazed brilliantly as it lit up in flames. The fiery bird thrashed its head and wings through the air, its cries piercing the stillness of the coming dusk. In the Phoenix's final death throes, it turned into a fine ash and was carried away by the very wind its beating wings created. An echo of a grief-stricken scream from the house below faded with the mythical bird.

The worst was assumed.

Rachel was dead.

((ooo))

Edgar crossed his arms. "No."

"Why not? I really think she can be good. That she _wants_ to be good."

"Yes, but Sabin, she can also be very, very evil. She killed Banon."

"I haven't forgotten. She also fought Kefka on several different occasions—"

"For her personal vendetta!" Cyan interjected angrily. "'twas not against the Empire, 'twas against the man who ruined her life!"

It was the morning after the Phoenix rose, and the prince had informed his friends of Celes' presence in Kohlingen. His request that the former Imperial be allowed to rejoin the group had not been well received by his brother or the Doman warrior.

"Lest we forget, the Empire is dead," Setzer reminded, acting as a neutral mediator of sorts.

Sabin looked pleadingly at his brother. "She has nothing left…"

"Not necessarily a comforting thought." The king gazed over to where Celes stood by the stream. "Sabe, she has no morals."

"I think she has a far purer spirit than you give her credit for. Yes, her hands are stained with blood, but whose hands here aren't?"

Relm timidly raised her hand. "Um…mine?"

"We are not murderers, butchers," Cyan spat.

"Don't start, Cyan," Sabin warned.

Setzer put his hands between the two. "Gentlemen!"

When he had their attention, the gambler gestured behind them. Locke had emerged from the herbalist's house, eyes bloodshot and face even more worn than when they found him in the Phoenix Cave.

"I'm coming with you guys."

Their eye went wide. "Locke…you don't have to—"

He shrugged. "Where else am I going to be? I was there when this thing started, and I want to be there to," he caught sight of Celes, and paused, "…see it finished."

Edgar put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Locke, if you're sure about this…then, good to have you back."

The thief nodded absently, his gaze still fixed on the blonde knight.

Sabin glanced over his shoulder to follow his stare. "She showed up last night."

Locke looked to Setzer. "When do we leave?"

"Whenever you're ready," the pilot told him.

"I'll just be a minute."

"Sure."

Edgar watched Locke as he approached Celes. "You really think we can trust her?" he asked his brother, his resolve softening.

"I think we have to," Sabin replied.

Celes looked up from the tranquil stream as Locke neared.

The treasure hunter gave a small wave. "Hey."

"Hey," she returned.

"Been a while, huh?"

"Over a year." Awkward silence ensued. "I'm sorry it didn't work."

Locke lowered his head. After a moment and with a discreet sniffle, he looked back into Celes' eyes. Tilting his head quizzically, he ran his fingers through a lock of her hair. "You cut it."

Celes took in his own hair that now reached past his chin. "You didn't."

"Haven't taken the time, I guess." He studied her for another minute. "I'm glad you're here."

The former general submitted, however reluctantly, when Locke snaked his arms around her neck, pulling her close. In that single instant, he managed to forget the grief that wrenched at his heart and feel that sliver of joy. When the moment passed, though, all the pain and the guilt came flooding back. He clenched his eyes shut and held Celes tighter, but the onslaught overtook him, and he quickly released her. He muttered an apology and something about it being too much before turning from her.

"Locke…"

"I'll be okay." He looked over his shoulder at her. "You coming along?"

Celes glanced at the airship where the others were waiting. "Wasn't planning on it…"

"But?"

"There isn't a 'but.'"

"There's always a 'but.' Everyone has a 'but.'" Celes raised a questioning brow, and when his brain caught up with his mouth, Locke managed a chuckle. "You know what I mean. Come on."

"Locke, I—"

The thief took her hand and practically dragged her to the _Falcon_, where Setzer and Edgar awaited on thegangplank. Releasing her hand, Locke walked past the two men and into the vessel.

"Celes." The ex-Imperial nervously met Edgar's gaze. "Welcome back."

As the king turned to go inside, the knight stared at his back with a strange mixture of bittersweet disbelief. Setzer gestured up the ramp with a grand sweeping of his arms.

"Welcome aboard."

The gambler put a friendly arm around her shoulders as they walked inside, and she was too stunned at the unexpected acceptance to care. As soon as she stepped up on deck, Relm darted over and hugged the older blonde, nearly knocking her to the ground. Sabin nodded gratefully to his brother, and Cyan remained stoic as ever, providing neither angry comment nor resentful glare.

Once at the controls, Setzer requested their next destination, but no one seemed to have any ideas.

"Edgar, did you know there's a lost civilization buried somewhere between Figaro and Kohlingen?" Celes finally asked.

"Seriously?" She nodded. "Is that what the castle has been running into?"

"I guess."

Edgar grinned, a gleam in his eyes normally seen on Locke. "Let's go to Figaro!"

"May I suggest a couple other stops first?" Celes proposed. With the king's nod of approval, she turned to Setzer. "Where's the Coliseum?"

"Just north of here. Why?"

"I think that's where you'll find Shadow. You wouldn't happen to have a weapon called the Striker, would you?" she asked jokingly.

To her surprise, Edgar dug around in his pack and produced a dirk. "This?"

"Um, sure? All I know is Shadow is looking for it."

The king glanced at Setzer. "Then let's pay our friendly neighborhood mercenary a visit, shall we?"

The engines of the _Falcon_ roared to life, and the pilot took off to the North. While the others went down into the plush cabins, Celes stayed on deck for the air. She noticed Locke staring out over the side rail, and though normally she'd leave him be, a nagging voice in the back of her conscience wouldn't let her.

"Regretting coming along?"

At first he didn't respond. Finally coming out of his daze, Locke glanced briefly over his shoulder at the blonde. "No." He rubbed his face. "Just thinking. You?"

She quirked a bitter smile. "There are a lot of things I regret. Hard to keep track of them all."

"I know the feeling."

The two stood in silence the rest of the flight to the Coliseum.

((ooo))

"We just want to talk to a friend of ours. We have reason to believe he's here."

"Look miss, the only way you get through these doors is to make a wager and participate in battle, just like everybody else."

She looked to Edgar. "Give me the Striker." The king handed her the dirk, and she held it up for the administrator. "Can you at least tell me who I would fight if I were to wager this?"

The man inspected the blade. "A ninja. I believe he goes by the name Shadow."

"Excellent. Sign me up."

"Celes—"

She cut Locke off. "Don't worry."

A half hour later, after several other pairs of contestants battled their way to victory or failure, Celes walked into the fighting ring. In the center, Shadow already waited. Any surprise he may have felt at seeing her was hidden under his mask.

"You…found the Striker."

"No." She gestured over her shoulder. "They did."

"And you're doing…what…here?"

"I will personally hand you the Striker if we just walk out of here right now so we can talk."

"Not how it works. You made a wager, a binding contract. One of us walks out of this arena, and the other is carried out on a stretcher or in a body bag."

"Great."

Without warning, Shadow whipped a shuriken at the knight. With inhuman speed, Celes brought up her left hand and caught the weapon midair, trapping it between the steel phalanges. Had it been her right hand, the multi-faceted blade could easily have sliced off a couple fingers and buried itself in her chest.

She stared at Shadow in disbelief. "That…was rude."

Celes swiftly flung the shuriken back at the unsuspecting ninja. He reacted a second too late, and the razor sharp projectile sliced through his mask, grazing his cheek.

Behind the guard rail of the arena, Locke, Edgar, and Sabin watched the ensuing brawl.

"Do you think it was a good idea to let Celes fight Shad—OH!" Locke cringed as the knight charged at the distracted ninja full speed and tackled him to the ground.

"What do you mean?" Edgar asked as the two fighters rolled to their feet.

"He has a point," Sabin agreed. "Shadow is an assassin after—AH!" The martial artist grimaced as the ninja blocked Celes' punch and wrenched her arm to the side.

"Would you volunteer to fight him, seeing what he's doing to--Ooo!" It was Edgar's turn to wince when Celes kicked Shadow hard in the stomach. "See? She'll be fine."

Locke flinched when Shadow cast a right hook, connecting with Celes' jaw. "But don't you think—" the ninja pivoted and jabbed his elbow into her stomach, "—there could have been—" and followed with a sharp elbow to the bridge of her nose, "—another way to talk to him?"

Edgar shrugged. "This seemed easiest." Another punch was thrown, but the woman sidestepped it, grabbed the outstretched arm, and threw her opponent to the ground. "Besides, it's Celes. I'm sure she'll…" He trailed off as the knight jumped into the air and let herself fall horizontally so that her own elbow crashed into Shadow's chest. "…pull through."

Not wasting any time, the former general ensnared the assassin in a choking headlock, only letting go when he stopped struggling.

"He is still alive, right?" Sabin called as Celes limped to the rail where they stood.

She waved it off. "Just unconscious."

Locke took in her haggard appearance. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," she replied breathlessly, wiping blood from her nose. "Never better." When she leaned her arms on the rail, her face contorted in pain. "Ugh, I think he dislocated my shoulder."

"We should take you to the infirmar—"

"No, it's all right." She took Locke's hands and put them on her shoulders, taking hold of his shoulders with her own hands. "Just hold still."

"Celes, maybe you shouldn't—"

With a quick jerking motion, the distinct _crack_ of her shoulder snapping back into place was heard. "There. Good as new," she claimed, her voice higher pitched than normal.

Shadow had already been carried out of the ring, and Celes refused help as she hobbled out as well. When they reached the main lobby, the administrator handed her the Striker with a patronizing smile.

"There. Now don't you feel better?"

The knight sent him an icy glare. Unexpectedly, she took the man's arm, twisted sharply, and slammed the palm of her other hand into his shoulder, knocking the joint out of alignment. As he cried out in pain, Celes turned to her friends with a bright smile.

"Yes, I _do_ feel better now," she said sweetly. "Thank you."

The knight walked calmly away from the administrator, though cradling her arm as she did. The guys just exchanged looks of amusement. A short while later, Shadow came out into the lobby.

"What is it you wanted?" he asked tersely, rubbing the back of his neck.

Celes handed him the Striker and gestured to guys behind her. "I did my part. Your turn."

Edgar stepped forward. "What are you doing here, Shadow?"

"All I know how to do is fight."

"Then come with us," the king entreated. "Fight with us."

"We're going to need all the help we can get," Sabin added.

The ninja examined the dirk in his hand. "All right."

Locke ran a hand through his newly trimmed hair. "Well, that was easy." Celes punched him sharply in the arm. "OW!"

The knight walked out of the Coliseum without a word. Shaking their heads and grinning, the Figaro brothers also walked out, and Shadow followed mutely. The thief stood alone in the lobby, rubbing his arm.

"What did I say?"

Once the _Falcon_ was in the air, Setzer called to Celes. "Next?"

The knight looked to the Southwest. "Mobliz."

The pilot looked at her in surprise. "Cel, Mobliz was leveled. There's nothing there."

"Yes there is. Trust me."

Hours later, she was welcomed by Duane and several of the orphans. The young man directed her to the supply room in the basement of the neighboring house where the half-Esper could be found.

"Terra."

When the mage turned to see who spoke, her face broke into a grin. "Celes!" She ran over and threw her arms around the other's neck. "Gods, you're here!"

"I told you I'd come back."

"But, Cel, that was only a month ago, and unless you have an airship…" She trailed off when several familiar faces appeared in the doorway. "Locke! Edgar, Sabin! You guys are all right! What are you doing here?"

"We came to check on our favorite half-Esper," Locke answered as he drew her into a hug.

Terra heard a trace of anguish in the thief's voice, but she let it go. "You didn't have to come all the way here to…" She stopped when she saw the guys exchanging glances and looking to Celes. "What?" Turning to the former general, she noticed an uncomfortable expression on the blonde's face. Terra turned away with the realization. "Celes, I told you I can't."

The knight followed the mage. "Yes, but that was a month ago," she grabbed Terra's arm to stop her, "so I'm asking again."

"I can't…I can't fight. Cel, you saw me with Phunbaba. I fought like…like a girl! Like a little girl!" she insisted.

Celes glanced back at the guys, who were all fighting off grins. She drew a breath, and let it out slowly. "Guys, can you give us a minute?"

"Sure," Edgar agreed before ushering the thief and his brother upstairs.

Once they were gone, Celes took Terra by the shoulders. "Ter, you know I hate asking you, but… I tried walking away from all this, but as you can see, that didn't go so well, and I'm not all convinced that you can just quit, either."

The mage dropped her gaze to the floor so the knight wouldn't see her tears.

"We need you, Ter. Hell, I need you to keep me sane…"

Terra didn't answer, instead throwing herself against Celes and crying into the blonde's shoulder. Celes just held her, gently stroking the other woman's hair.

Eventually, her sigh broke the silence. "Okay, Terra," she consented, kissing the mage's forehead. "I won't ask you again." The half-Esper clung to her tighter. "This means I have to leave, though."

Celes gently extracted herself from Terra's grasp, and the latter sniffled as she self-consciously dried her eyes. The blonde turned towards the stairs. "I'll come back when this is over," she promised.

Terra just watched her go. A minute passed, and Katrin walked into the room. The hush was deafening until the pregnant woman finally spoke. "You know you want to go."

"Why?"

"Because your closest friend just came to you for help, even though the last thing she wants is to put you in danger."

"…I don't understand…"

"She's your friend. You love her, just as she loves you."

"Love?" Terra whispered.

"Yes."

The half-Esper was quiet for a long time. "…But, the children…"

"What kind of future do they have in a dying world? If Kefka isn't stopped…I'm afraid of what might happen."

Wordlessly, Terra walked over to the hope chest sitting in the corner of the room. Lifting the lid, she rummaged through the contents. Finding the item she sought, she stood up, her gaze still fixed on it.

Katrin peered over the mage's shoulder, seeing a small blade glowing blue in Terra's hand. "Should I tell them not to take off yet?"

The half-Esper continued to stare into the translucent blade of the Atma Weapon. "Quickly."

((ooo))

Terra was welcomed onto the _Falcon_ with hugs from Locke, Sabin, and Relm, a kiss to the hand from Edgar and Setzer, nods of acknowledgment from Cyan and Shadow, and a heartfelt whoop from Gau. Celes merely gave a knowing look, almost a smile were it not for the sadness behind it.

Edgar rubbed his hands together. "All right! How about that ancient castle you were talking about, Cel?"

"Sure." She didn't sound as enthused.

Setzer, Shadow, and Gau opted to stay on the airship after dropping the others off at Figaro. Once the desert fortress submerged and reached the bumpy landmark, Edgar requested the moving mechanisms be shut down until the warriors returned from their underground exploration.

Celes remained mute as she led the group into the caves via the detention block, and the others fell into quiet awe when the subterranean castle came into view. The grief that had been weighing on Locke seemed to lift the deeper inside they walked.

Terra was immediately drawn to the statue in the Great Hall. "Odin."

Relm came up behind her. "The Esper champion."

Celes looked on in silence as the green-haired woman lightly touched the stone with her fingertips. Terra and Relm both let out a startled cry when the statue crumbled, disintegrating into a mere pile of dust. The blonde knight unconsciously grasped the icy pendant around her neck as the half-Esper knelt down, finding a glowing gem amidst the powdery remains.

"Magicite…"

Terra stowed the stone in her pack, and the three women veered into the room the men had disappeared into.

"A library. Gods, the ancient tomes in this room…" Edgar breathed in wonder.

The warriors browsed the shelves. Relm picked up a jewel-encrusted diary, opened to a random page, and began reading.

"'I realize now that I am in love with Odin. How I long for this war to end so that I may bear my soul to him.'" Relm flipped through several more pages. "'I am overjoyed that I have given Odin a son, but my heart is filled with sorrow that he must grow up in a world ravaged by war.'"

"A child born of human and Esper," Terra mused.

Cyan crossed his arms. "Loved by his peers, hated by his enemies."

Relm skipped another couple dozen pages. "'My son, wracked with grief over his father's death, fought and defeated Ragnar. The sorcerer is now sealed within the Einlanzer, but I fear his powers are too strong. I see the corruption seeping from the accursed blade, afflicting my little Genji even now, but he will not heed my warnings. Perhaps young Aegis can convince him before it's too late…'" Relm closed the diary. "Who's Aegis?"

"Genji's son," Celes answered quietly. "Born of Minerva, a sorceress of Esper origin."

Edgar raised a brow. "You seem to know a lot about this stuff."

She didn't meet his gaze. "I studied mythology in Vector."

"Ah."

Relm stared at Celes, her head tilted slightly to one side as she studied the older woman. "You're not telling us something."

The knight looked into the girl's bright eyes. "Nothing of importance."

Though Relm wasn't convinced, she let the subject drop. "If you say so."

"Hey, here's another journal," Sabin called. "This one was written by…some guy named Radius." The martial artist looked to Celes expectantly.

She shook her head. "Never heard of him."

Sabin started skimming the pages. When he found some text of interest, he began paraphrasing for the others. "Genji was corrupted by the sorcerer's spirit that was trapped in his own sword. Aegis fought his father, wielding the Illumina, the only sword forged that could pierce Genji's armor."

Save for Locke, who was busy searching the chamber for treasure, the others were entranced by the recount of Magi history. They broke from their thrall, however, when the blitz master fell silent.

"And?" Relm prodded impatiently.

Sabin looked up, realizing they were waiting for him to continue. "Oh! Um…" He continued to read. "Genji was killed, and his armor and sword were sealed away somewhere. A prophesy of sorts was declared against any who sought them out. Um…'Thou who covet the power within the Sword of the Damned shall face thy darkest enemy.'"

"How trite," Edgar joked as he watched Locke examine a bare wall.

"Hmph."

"What?"

"The journal changed authors. The handwriting is completely different."

Terra took the log from Sabin and picked up where the prince left off. "'The war has halted, at least for now, but at a terrible price. One of our priests summoned the mighty Alexander, submitting both himself and our enemies to His Holy Judgment. In their desperation, our enemies retaliated by summoning Crusader. The three hellgods slew Alexander and wrecked havoc in our domain before turning on those that summoned them. We will keep the Holy One's remains in our stronghold so that, Goddesses willing, He may never fall into dishonorable hands.'" Terra set the journal down. "The Holy One's remains…"

Edgar nodded, following the woman's train of thought. "But where?"

"Guys, where's Locke?" Relm asked.

Celes gestured over her shoulder. "He left a couple minutes ago."

"Damn thief," the king muttered.

The sound of stone grating on stone cut through the quiet castle as the wall Locke had been inspecting earlier swiveled open. The treasure hunter strolled back into the chamber, looking quite pleased with himself.

Edgar eyed him suspiciously. "What did you do?"

"There was a button on the riser of one of the stairs in front of the throne."

The king's eyes went wide. "And you pushed it? Does the word booby-trap mean anything to you?"

The thief just grinned and slipped through the crevice in the wall. The others stared after him.

Terra eventually chuckled. "Well, he's certainly back to his old self."

Edgar fought his own grin. "Yeah, his old _cocky_ self."

Locke slinked back into the room. He spoke in an oddly hushed voice. "Okay, I have some good news, some bad news, and some really bad news." When he had their rapt attention, he elaborated. "The good news is I found where they kept Alexander. The bad news is I also found the queen."

Relm's face scrunched up. "Ew."

"She's been turned to stone," he explained. "Looks like she was protecting the magicite."

Celes absently adjusted her cloak. "And the really bad news?"

"There's a twenty-foot dragon coiled around her and the altar."

"One of the eight…?" Sabin wondered.

"Probably."

"There was one in the Phoenix Cave," Edgar recalled.

Celes unconsciously rested her hand on the pommel of the Blizzard Edge. "Did you slay it?"

"Barely."

"Great."

Each warrior edged into the secret vault for a glimpse of the ancient beast. The blue serpentine dragon was indeed curled around the stone-encased queen and the altar behind her. Though it slumbered, its tail flicked about in a feline-like manner. The slender body was armored with large serrated scales, tough as steel and virtually impenetrable by sword. Each of its four paws sported curved talons, and its beak was hooked like a hawk's. The lavender mane flowing down the dragon's back was the only break from its otherwise hard and menacing form.

"It appears to be the Dragon of Water," Cyan noted just above a whisper.

Terra's eyes narrowed as she weighed their options. "Celes, can you…?"

"I might be able to slow it down a bit, and maybe freeze any water magic it uses, but…"

"So…hit it with lightning?"

"A lot."

"Okay. That can be arranged."

Celes gestured ahead. "After you, Ter."

"What? I'm not fighting that thing!"

"You're the one with lightning magic here."

"The guys—"

"Aren't as powerful as you."

"Well…Relm—"

"You're going to make an eleven-year old face a twenty-foot dragon?"

"I'm still not sure I can fight."

"Now's your chance to find out. Like riding a chocobo, remember?"

Terra sighed in defeat. "If I die, I'll never speak to you again."

"We'll be right behind you to back you up," Celes promised. "Won't we guys?"

Edgar shifted nervously on his feet. "Uh…yeah. Sure."

Terra drew in a breath and let it out slowly. She rubbed her hands together, and they crackled with electricity as she called her magic to the surface. Celes likewise cracked her fingers, a white mist forming on her fingertips. The two women crept forward while Edgar, Sabin, Locke, Cyan, and Relm followed closely behind them.

Still a dozen paces away, they stopped dead in their tracks when they noticed a large glassy eye watching them; the dragon was awake. It's tail lashed about agitatedly as it lifted its elongated head to regard the intruders.

"Aw crap," Relm whined.

With a screech, the dragon uncoiled and raised its upper body into the air, towering above the humans.

"Here we go," Celes drawled.

((ooo))

Seven warriors were sprawled across the floor, bruised, cut, bleeding, and taking their time in simply catching their breath. Each was soaked from the Water Dragon's attacks, and as if that didn't chill them enough, half the vault was covered in Celes' ice. Pillars were cracked and smashed from where the enormous beast or the warriors had been slammed into them, and sections of stone were scorched from Terra's magic. The charred body of the dragon lay unmoving in the middle of the hall.

Locke rested on his back, his hands crossed casually behind his head as he stared thoughtfully at the ceiling. He gave a contented sigh. "Is it weird to think I might miss this when all it's over?"

Several groans carried through the room. Without opening her eyes, Celes spoke on behalf of all of them. "Yes."

The thief lolled his head to the side to look at the blonde knight. "You won't miss it?"

Surprisingly, she gave the question serious thought. "I've been fighting all my life. It's the only thing I'm good at…"

"You're good at singing…"

"Shut. Up," she muttered to both Locke and the snickering Figaro brothers. "I warned you never to bring that up again, or I'd make you suffer in horrible painful ways." She ignored the thief's impish grin and returned to her answer. "I don't know… I guess I'll worry about it when the time comes," she concluded.

A long period of silence followed until Edgar finally stood up. "I suppose we should get moving."

The others also got to their feet, and they climbed over the dragon's body to get to the altar. There, they stopped and stared, mouths agape.

Relm was the first to speak. "Um…where is it?"

Locke and Terra both search the altar and the surrounding area, but the magicite was nowhere to be found.

Edgar let his head fall into his hand. "Don't tell me we almost died for no reason."

Sabin tried to be more optimistic. "One less dragon in the world…"

Celes happened to glance at the back corner. "There's a body."

The king's eyebrows drew closer together. "Yeah? So?"

"It's only a few weeks old at most." She shook her head. "I don't understand. I didn't notice any footprints or anything when I was down here the first time…"

"So…someone has already been down here, somehow slipped past the dragon, and stole the magicite without leaving any traces other than a fallen comrade…?" Edgar deduce.

Locke scratched the back of his head. "Well, someone didn't get past Sir Slosh-a-lot over there."

"These art the robes of a cultist," Cyan stated softly.

"Kefka fanatic?" Sabin clarified. "Great."

Terra's forehead creased in confusion. "Why would the cultists…?"

"To keep it away from us," Celes reasoned.

"So Kefka is afraid of Alexander, right?" Relm asked. "That means He can hurt the psycho, right?"

The warriors exchanged looks. Edgar stared at the empty altar as he voiced the silent consensus.

"I say we find out."

_Author's notes: At this point, only Mog, Umaro, Strago, and Gogo haven't been found yet. The Einlanzer and Radius are both from Chrono Cross, the first being a sword and the second being a character. The history in the diary entries is from the plot of a War of the Magi story I'm working on. The reason I'm not elaborating on the fight scenes is because I have a lot of battles to choreograph in these final chapters, so I'm saving up :) Here's next chapter's teaser because they're just so fun:_

_Strago standing before Fanatics' Tower. "Swords will be of no use here."_

_Strago holding magicite with fear in his eyes. "Alexander."_

_Solitary Island—Sabin watching Celes hold her Rune Blade. "I thought you said you lost it."_

_Celes twirling the Rune Blade. "I lied."_

_A dark figure circling Celes. "As the prophesy goes, 'Thou who covet the power within the Sword of the Damned shall face thy darkest enemy.'"_


	23. Ragnarok

_Disclaimer: Thou who claim ownership shall face thy darkest enemy._

_Have you ever tried thinking of the world maps for this game in terms of a globe? It's bloody confusing. As always, reviews are much appreciated._

Chapter Twenty-three: Ragnarok

"What happened to you guys?"

"Dragon."

"Ah." Setzer needed not ask more.

"What about here?" Edgar wondered, taking in the battered appearance of the _Falcon_.

"Doom Gaze."

Cyan's eyebrows rose. "Thou faced that hell beast?"

Gau leapt around the deck with unintelligible vocalizations as if acting out the battle.

The gambler crossed his arms. "He tried to tear apart my baby."

Shadow grunted. "Big son of a—"

Edgar noisily cleared his throat. "Language," he chastised. "There are ladies and children present."

Terra, Celes, and Relm consequentially rolled their eyes.

"It took some effort and serious piloting," Setzer confirmed, "but we brought him down. Snagged this in the process." He held up a gem that glowed blood red, deeper than that of Ifrit. "Bahamut."

"King of dragons," several of the warriors recognized.

Celes watched as Terra took the magicite in hand. "It will take some measure of power to control so great an entity," she almost whispered.

"You don't think one of us could do it?" Sabin asked.

"I don't think Bahamut would answer the call from one of you."

After a moment of thought, the half-Esper held the magicite out to Celes.

The ex-general shook her head. "I've already told you. I do not use more than I already possess," she reminded, fingering the icy pendant around her neck. "After all I've done, it wouldn't feel right."

"But I already hold my fair share. Who else could—"

Terra stopped mid-sentence, and both women's heads swiveled towards the small blonde looking innocently on. The men also turned their gaze to the girl. When she noticed the eight pairs of eyes on her, Relm nearly flinched.

"What?"

"Do you think she can do it?" Terra asked Celes.

"She has the potential. In a few years' time, her magic will rival ours."

"But she's so young. Would Bahamut answer to her?"

"She's a Magi. A powerful one. I don't think age matters."

"What?" Relm repeated, growing anxious.

Celes nodded to Terra, who stooped down and placed the crimson stone in the palm of Relm's hand, closing the girl's fingers around it. Relm's expression conveyed skepticism at best.

"Really?"

"Trust in yourself, Relm," Celes advised.

"Um, sure."

Edgar addressed the group. "Does anyone know where the cultists' tower is?"

"If I'm right, it's on the Serpent Trench," Setzer recalled, "but why would you want to go to that freak show?"

"We think they have something of importance. A powerful Esper, to be precise."

The pilot took to the controls. "To Fanatics' Tower then?"

"Indeed."

The tower was located within the ring of mountains Celes had once passed on her way to Nikeah. There didn't appear to be any clear path through the peaks, so Setzer simply landed the airship a couple hundred yards from the structure.

A line of cultists in red and white robes trudged back and forth in front of the tower, droning some chant and completely oblivious to the arriving warriors. Among them was the familiar form of Strago.

"Gramps?" The elderly mage didn't respond, so Relm walked a little closer and let out a shout. "HEY! YOU OLD FOOL, YOU'RE STILL STANDING?"

Strago lifted his head, and his empty eyes lit up at seeing his granddaughter. "Relm? By the Goddesses, you're alive?"

The girl laughed. "You thought I was gonna check out before you? Idiot."

His brow creased. "And you're as foul-mouthed as ever!" He grinned. "Bless your heart!" He looked at the others. "You're all alive!"

Terra approached and took his hand. "We're glad to see you, Strago. What are you doing with fanatics?"

"There's a rumor a powerful relic resides atop this tower. I guess I got caught in their thrall."

"Powerful relic," Terra mused. "That's why we came."

Celes gestured to the slow-moving train of cultists. "Do they even know we're here?"

"They don't react to much," the old man answered.

Locke strolled forward. "Well, then they won't mind if we just mosey on up to the—Oomph!"

His steps were abruptly halted by an invisible force. Unnoticed by the warriors, the cultists stopped in their tracks. As one, their heads lifted and turned towards the thief.

Locke rubbed his nose. "Ow."

Edgar, not catching on, tried to pass the thief. "Nice one, Cole. You should probably—" _Thump. _He stumbled back, holding his forehead. "What in tarnation?"

Celes, Terra, and Relm looked curiously on as Sabin stepped up parallel to his brother and the treasure hunter. Putting his hands out, they connected with a seemingly solid surface, and a slight ripple could be seen in the air where his palms touched. Cautiously, Relm passed the apparent line holding the men back. Edgar extended his arm, but it met resistance. With a grin, the girl walked back to the side where the two women and one Magi stood, and the king threw up his hands. As an experiment, Celes stepped up to the unseen barrier, reached through to take Locke's hand, and tried to drag him through. The thief recoiled when his hand hit the imperceptible wall. Celes turned to Terra with a quizzical look, but the half-Esper shrugged.

The cultists continued to stare at the warriors.

Strago chose that moment to explain. "Only those with innate magic can enter the tower."

Celes glanced at those on her side and those on the other side as if doing a headcount. Terra did the same, and they both had the same reaction.

"Ooooooh." Celes crossed her arms. "So I guess it's just the four of us, then."

Strago nodded. "You might as well leave your weapons. Swords will be of no use here…and it's a long climb to the top."

They followed his gaze up to the top of the towering structure, each groaning at the prospect. Without warning, the cultists closed in, pulling large knives from within their robes.

"Infidels," they hissed.

The warriors, startled by the assault, nonetheless quickly readied themselves for the fight. Celes sidestepped a knife thrust at her abdomen, bashed her fist down on the cultist's wrist to loosen his grip on the weapon, and backhanded him with her other fist. Taking the knife from him, she turned it around and jabbed it into her attacker's chest. The fanatic staggered back, but he soon regained balance and yanked the weapon out of his chest.

"What the f—"

"Blades won't work here!" Strago repeated, drowning out her curse. "Only magic!"

The cultist lunged at Celes again, and she duplicated her earlier dodge. This time, though, instead of going for the knife, she took the man's head between her hands and twisted sharply. With a _crack_, he fell limp to the ground.

Strago blinked.

The blonde knight shrugged. "No one can withstand a good neck-snapping."

The other fanatics were swiftly brought down by the scorching flames and bolts of lightning conjured by the others. Edgar opened his mouth to say something to the four mages, but a thunderous rumbled drew everyone's attention. Turning towards the source of the disturbance, their jaws dropped.

"I think we made someone angry," Locke muttered.

Appearing from around the base of the structure was a mammoth dragon, much larger than the one they faced in the Ancient Castle. Easily forty feet in length, the head of this monstrous beast with pearly-white scales and intense orange eyes rose above the second story of the tower. Four lanky appendages grew from either side of the dragon's back, a leathery blue skin webbed between them to form wings too small to allow extensive flight. The horns, talons, and jagged plates were no less intimidating than those of the Water Dragon.

"They're sicking their pet dragon on us?" Relm yelped. "_So_ unfair!"

From within the dragon's mouth, an orb of white light formed. Celes instinctively reached for her Rune Blade, but when her hand grasped the larger hilt of the Blizzard Edge, she cursed under her breath. The warriors jumped out of the way when the orb was launched towards them.

"It's the Dragon of Light!" Celes yelled. "Pearl-elemental!"

"What's it weak against?" Edgar shouted back.

"Uh…"

The king grit his teeth. "You guys get up that tower! We'll take care of this thing!"

"Be careful!" Terra warned.

After considerable hesitation, the four mages put aside their weapons and made their way into the tower. Looking up, they saw only a spiral staircase inhabiting the windowless structure. Bracing themselves, the two women, old man, and young child began the epic climb. Cultists filed out of nondescript rooms scattered throughout the floors. Along with them came magicians of all crafts: witches and warlocks, wizards and sorcerers, enchanters and conjurers, tricksters and necromancers. It was enough to make the already difficult ascension seem endless. Frequent rests had to be taken for the sake of Relm and Strago, though by the thirtieth floor, even Celes grew fatigued. When their magic reserves dwindled, Elixirs were downed to replenish their strength.

When at last the fiftieth and final floor was reached, they were greeted by the cool night air the rooftop afforded.

"Thank the gods," Terra breathed.

"Finally!" Relm agreed. "I do _not_ want to do that again."

"I second that," Terra followed.

"Come on, it's good for us," Celes claimed, slightly out of breath herself.

"Yes, but some of us aren't as young as we used to be," Strago reminded.

They approached the small building in the middle of the roof, but before they got too close, a man in spiky gold armor stepped out of the door and blocked their path.

"Infidels! How dare you defile this house of worship to the Great One with your presence!"

The four exchanged questioning glances, eyebrows quirked in amusement. The man's eyes turned to Celes.

"General Chere. You will make an excellent sacrifice to the Great One."

"Yeah, and she's just gonna hop right up onto that altar for ya," Relm shot back.

The man's expression didn't even twitch. "That won't be necessary."

He drew two blades so thin and flimsy they looked as though they would break if they struck anything. In defiance, Terra muttered an incantation, and the man drew himself up to his full height, extending his blades in front of his body. A burst of flame erupted out of nothing, but the tongues of fire crawled harmlessly over the man's body before simply dissipating. To retaliate, the Magi Master cast his own ball of flame, barely dodged by the half-Esper.

Relm chanted and threw her hands out, sending a bolt of lightning towards their foe, but again, the electricity merely danced across his flesh, doing no damage. With a laugh, he threw a charge back at the girl, but she leapt to the side of it.

"He's elemental," Celes realized.

"But…changing…" Strago added.

Relm threw her hands up. "Fantastic."

"There has to be a sequence," Terra assumed.

The four mages cast element after element in a random fashion, but they caused damaged less than half the time. The Magi Master had various barriers up, shielding him from their full force, and he only threw magic back in retaliation, never making the first move. Celes felt a chill against her chest; her pendant took on a strong glow as if demanding her attention.

_What, Shiva?_ she asked in her mind. She was almost surprised to get a response.

_He will attack if he is afraid, but he does not fear you._

_And what would you suggest? _There was no answer. _Shiva?_

"Ow!"

Celes looked to Terra in alarm, and she saw the half-Esper fumbling Ifrit's magicite around in her hands. The stone was glowing red hot. Soon, Strago held the gem of Ramuh, which sparked in his palm. She took a guess as to why.

"They wish to be summoned." Celes received looks of confusion. "Your Espers…summon them!"

Without waiting to see if the others understood or not, Celes uttered an unfamiliar incantation, calling on Shiva to manifest in the human realm. White mist swirled around her body, and directly behind her, spikes of ice fell to the roof. A figure descended elegantly down into the ice as a mere shadow. Once amidst the glacial prison, the now visible woman drew herself to her full height, her reflection unmistakable in the many facets of the frozen crystal. Iridescent silk with elaborate sapphire embroidery covered her, but with a sweep of her arm, the ice surrounding her shattered, and the cloak flew from her body. Shiva struck a devil-may-care pose not unlike Celes would at certain times.

Nearby, Terra called on Ifrit. A flame formed in her hand and she dropped it to the ground. In the blink of an eye, it spread out into an archaic glyph. The ground beneath the symbol split, and a large canine-like beast shot up from the fiery pit. Ifrit landed heavily at Terra's side.

Strago next summoned Ramuh. Storm clouds gathered, and lightning struck the tower. The sage rose from an electrical whirlwind, his long beard flowing in the gale winds accompanying it. Ramuh brought his staff to bear.

With a gesture from Celes, Relm refrained from summoning Bahamut. Already, the Magi Master was visibly displeased with the turn of events, but still he did not attack.

As if skimming over a frozen lake, Shiva skated over to her summoner's foe and delivered a sharp kick. Ifrit leapt the distance and viciously raked his claws down the Magi Master's torso. Ramuh, even, glided over and gave him a good whack with his staff.

Though his barriers and shells protected him somewhat, the master mage found himself wounded. Finally, he grew frantic and threw a ball of fire at Shiva. Ifrit stepped in and took the blow, the flames only invigorating him. It was what the Espers, and indeed their summoners, had been waiting for.

Shiva twirled around, and with no more than a wave of her hand a sheet of ice swelled up and around the Magi Master. In a graceful motion, she lifted her hands into the air, touching the right to her left forearm above her head. Light flashed at the contact as a sphere of arctic energy formed, and Shiva held the position for several seconds. She then drew the energy back before thrusting it out in front of her in a powerful expulsion of energy. Layers upon layers and spikes over spikes of ice surged forth in a magnitude envied by Celes. Releasing the outpour and dropping her hands, Shiva rose to her full height and returned to her casual stance. Almost mockingly, she slowly extended one arm back out and snapped her fingers.

The ice shattered, and the Magi Master staggered from the freezing torrent. Frustrated, he sent a flood of water at the Espers, quickly frozen by the Ice Esper. Almost serenely, Ramuh pointed his staff at the fanatic, and a stream of electricity spewed out towards him, lifting the master into the air. A growing sphere of the crackling voltage amassed at the end of the rod and ultimately projected forth and discharged at contact with the zealous mage.

Dazed, it took the obsessed sorcerer a moment to recover before he attempted to conjure a blizzard to freeze the sage. Snow whirled around him, but the Magi Master never completed his incantation. Ifrit leapt into the air and threw twin balls of fire from his paws and breathed a third flaming ball from his jaw. As his foe was trapped in the blazing inferno, the Fire Esper dropped back to the roof, his claws raking across the stone. With immense strength, the Esper pulled a large section of the building up and hurled it at the cultist.

The master mage was weakening. He desperately threw out a hand, and a bolt of electricity raced towards Shiva before she could defend. As his sister stumbled back, Ifrit snarled in anger and lunged at their foe, slashing him with his claws. Celes nodded to Relm, and the child prayed to Bahamut for aid.

With a thunderous roar, the mythical beast dropped down out of the clouds. Opening his wings, he expertly landed directly next to his summoner, making the entire tower shake with his mass. The enormous dragon king standing beside the diminutive child was a comical sight.

Relm looked up at the towering dragon. "Kick his ass!"

The majestic Esper looked down at his summoner. When the Magi Master began another conjuring, Bahamut flapped his wings once to glide over. A powerful swipe of a paw knocked the man to the ground. Flying back to Relm's side, the dragon fell to all fours and slammed his massive paws down, digging his claws into the roof. A sphere of light formed in his fearsome beak, and a beam of explosive energy shot forth, piercing the master mage. From beneath the fanatic, the energy flared up in a colossal pillar, blinding to the warriors.

When the light subsided, the Magi Master was nowhere to be seen, having been completely vaporized by Bahamut's wrath. Terra, Strago, and Relm thanked their Espers for answering their call, and the three entities faded from the realm. Celes merely gave Shiva a slight bow of her head. Gently, the icy goddess touched her fingers to the woman's cheek, and Celes looked up at her. Shiva held her gaze for a moment before turning and following her kin, returning to the ethereal realm.

The four mages finally stepped into the building of the roof. A single altar occupied the room, an ornate jewel-encrusted chest resting on it. Strago stepped forward and lifted the lid of the box. Inside lay a diamond the size of Relm's fist with a lustrous garnet at its center. The old man gingerly, almost fearfully took the magicite in hand.

"This is Alexander…"

"Yes, it is," Celes confirmed.

For several minutes, the old man was silent as he stared into the dark red core, unease etched on his face. "…His power is not to be trifled with," he eventually declared. "Heed my warning and never summon Him."

((ooo))

When the four mages returned to the airship, they found the others lounging around, nursing fresh wounds from the latest battle with the dragon.

"Everyone all right?" Terra inquired in concern.

When it was clear they were too worn to answer, Relm waved them off. "Eh, they're alive."

"Relm," Terra admonished.

"What? They're breathing, aren't they? They're fine!"

Terra shook her head and made a point of checking each of her friends individually. The child plopped down next to Interceptor, and Celes pulled Strago aside to speak in private.

"Do you… Have you heard of the Ragnarok?"

"Sword of the Damned," he affirmed. "Hidden away from unworthy hands for a millennium."

"Do you know anything more?"

"What precisely are you after, dear?" he asked gently.

She dropped her gaze. "Where it is."

"Legend has it, only a descendant of Rune can find it, let alone wield…it…" He trailed off as a vague notion entered his mind. Shaking himself mentally, he pushed it aside. "It is a blade of terrible power. _Corruptive _power. Why do you seek it?"

"It might be what we need."

"Celes, dear, what I can assume is that the Three Statues have made Kefka the equivalent of a god. I don't think that hellish sword would be enough to defeat him."

"But it might weaken him," Celes countered, unusually quiet.

The old Magi sighed, and his brow creased in concentration. "There are myths…indefinite references to a place known as Island of the Damned. I believe modern-day scholars merely call it Triangle Island. A devilish place. No record of exploration has been made."

"Why not?"

"Most ships that have gone out that way have inevitably and inexplicably sunk. Any crew that somehow managed to land onshore were never heard from again. But…if you're looking for the resting place of the Ragnarok, Triangle Island would be my best guess."

When the others were recovered, Celes ran the idea past them, conveniently glossing over the concerns Strago (and she) had about the sword. Of course, they already had a general idea of the Ragnarok's nature from the journal entries they had read through, so it wasn't as though they were flying blind. She also made sure they were aware of the apparent dangers of the island itself.

There was debate, hours of arguing the pros and cons of the Ragnarok. Terra was firmly against it, reminding everyone that the queen's diary had stated very clearly the evil of the blade. Edgar, the dutiful king and willing to do whatever it took to fell Kefka, was confidently for it. Sabin, calling to mind when Vargas was corrupted by the power of Blitz, was against it. Setzer, going with his philosophy of 'life's a gamble,' supported the idea, though not as strongly as Edgar. Locke agreed with Terra on the danger of using the sword, but the possibility of hunting for an ancient relic made him contradict himself. Cyan's only qualm was about Celes being the one to wield the blade, quickly thwarted by the Rune prophesies and the blonde's Runic infusion. Relm, ever wise for her age, acknowledged the risk as well as the need.

Not surprisingly, Gau had nothing to contribute, and Shadow remained silent. Strago also stayed out of the dispute, having already voiced his apprehension to Celes. The blonde knight herself was hesitant to simply step in with what would be a tiebreaker of sorts.

Finally, a consensus was reached to at least search for the Ragnarok. Before they did, however, Celes requested one brief detour.

"There's a…a small island southwest of Albrook, a rundown cabin on the southern shore. There's…something I'd like to do there if no one minds."

There were no objections of course, and Setzer set the path the blonde specified. When they landed, Terra, Locke, Edgar, and Sabin quietly observed as Celes stood before a crude headstone. After a moment, the ex-general moved several feet to the right, knelt down, and started digging down into the dirt with her gloved hands.

When she swept aside the final grains, she wrapped her fingers around an abject and pulled it free from the earth. The others looked on in confusion as she stood and drew the Rune Blade from its sheath.

Sabin raised an eyebrow. "I thought you said you lost it."

Celes twirled the blade in her hand, then inspected the steel shaft. "I lied."

"But…but why would you…?"

She slid the sword back into its sheath. "I had my reasons." She turned to the North and started walking. "I just need a little time alone here. I'll be back in an hour."

Sabin was dumbfounded. Locke watched her go, and the others traded glances.

((ooo))

Celes stood on the cliff she once took her 'leap of faith' from. The day of what they all hoped would be the final battle was rapidly approaching, and the tension she felt grew heavier as time went on.

She sensed someone come up behind her. "What part of 'alone' didn't you understand?" she snapped icily.

"I was worried."

"You're always worried," she muttered. The thief stayed quiet, and his silence seemed to grate Celes even more. "What do you want, Locke?"

"This island obviously has some significance to you. Most likely, it's none of our business, but we all kind of feel like you're leaving us in the dark here."

"I'm not sure you'd understand."

He took her hand before she could walk to the opposite side of the cliff. "Try me."

"I'm fighting for you guys," she reminded with a shadow of desperation in her tone. "What more can you ask of me?"

"For you to fight _with_ us. Stop limiting yourself to just being an ally and start being our friend, because we're _trying_ to be yours."

She looked down at their hands, and for some reason, her eyes locked onto the silver band around her thumb. The sight of the Imperial ring made her grow troubled, and she looked away, pulling her hand out of Locke's.

The thief sighed quietly. "You know, Relm was right. You are holding something back. I just wish you'd trust me enough to tell me what."

Celes abruptly turned on her heel and headed down the slope. "Let's just go."

Slightly hurt, Locke wordlessly followed the blonde back to the airship. Hours later found the _Falcon_ hovering above Triangle Island.

"The fog is too thick!" Setzer yelled over the engines. "I can't _see_ the ground, let alone land on it!"

"Just try!" Edgar shouted back.

Due to the dense haze, it had been decided that Setzer would take off after the team debarked and wait for their flare signal to pick them up. Relm, Strago, and Gau also opted to stay onboard. When the aircraft finally touched down, albeit roughly, Strago pulled Celes aside.

"Celes, you mustn't let your fear of yourself take over. Especially in this place." Then, to everyone, he added, "Don't lose your way. Triangle Island has a way of…swallowing people whole."

Locke gulped. "They just...vanish?"

The old man quirked an eyebrow, but it was lost on the others. "Without a trace."

A knight, a mage, a thief, a king, a blitz master, a warrior, and a ninja all stepped warily off the gangplank, and the _Falcon_ rose back into the air as soon as they were clear. Even with the haze, the warriors assumed they would stumble across whatever they were looking for. After three hours of walking blindly around the island and finding nothing, though, they began to wonder if Strago was wrong about the location.

Unexpectedly, a large patch of ground to the left began to shift. Another area behind them also shifted, and another to their right.

"What new manner of evil is this?" Cyan asked.

"Burrowers," Shadow answered almost too calmly. Edgar took out his auto-crossbow, but the assassin shook his head. "That won't help."

The ground rumbled and shook, scattering pebbles and up-heaving dirt. A monstrous creature suddenly crested and swallowed Locke, diving back into the earth as smoothly as though it were water.

"LOCKE!" Terra screamed.

Edgar cursed loudly. "I didn't think the old man meant _literally_!"

The ground behind the king shifted again, and though he tried valiantly to outrun the creature, he too was swallowed. Cyan was pulled under almost immediately following the king, and Terra was nearly hysteric.

"What are we going to do?"

"Signal Setzer?" Sabin suggested, verging on panic himself.

"You would leave your companions?" Shadow wondered, still sounding indifferent.

Meanwhile, Celes stared at the ground. "Could it really be that easy?"

Sabin shouted a warning, but the blonde knight made no move to dodge the gaping mouth of the surfacing burrower. The martial artist and Terra were both taken at the same time, and Shadow stood alone. The dirt shifted again, but the agile ninja crouched and then leapt out of the creature's range. Grunting in satisfaction when the ground became calm, he rose from his crouch. Fate, however, wasn't on Shadow's side, and without warning, a burrower surfaced and consumed the unsuspecting assassin.

((ooo))

"Is everyone here?" Sabin asked.

The warriors picked themselves up, vaguely hearing an odd rattle as they did. They brushed the dirt from their cloaks, each answering with various affirmatives. Wherever they were, it was completely dark save for the dim glow of the magicite hanging around their necks.

"Someone light a torch," Edgar called, prompting Sabin and Terra to go to work.

Locke took a step and heard a crunch. "Why is the ground covered with sticks?"

Nearby, Celes bent down and picked something up. Her pendant barely illuminated what she held, but it was enough. "Um, these aren't sticks."

The magic of the half-Esper and martial artist flared, and several torches were lit. Celes was holding what appeared to be a rib bone. As one, the seven warriors look down.

"This truly be a damned island…" Cyan murmured.

The floor was not of dirt or stone, but of bones.

"Speaking for Relm, who is lucky she isn't here," Terra began, "I'm going to say 'ew.'"

Sabin pointed towards the entrance to a tunnel. "Is this what we were looking for?"

"I would assume," Celes replied. "It's faint, but I can feel some kind of power here."

More than a little disturbed and slightly anxious, the warriors carefully made their way through the long and dangerous caves. They eventually came to what appeared to be a dead end. The wall they faced was engraved with glowing archaic runes and emblems from floor to ceiling.

Locke strolled up to it and gave it an appraising eye. "What is it?"

"It looks ancient," Terra observed.

Celes stepped forward and ran her hand over the sculpted rock and felt a familiar but elusive sensation.

"Hey, look at this," Sabin called.

He drew their attention to a two-inch wide slot running deep into the wall. Just above it was a symbol that made Celes' breath catch in her throat.

Locke touched her shoulder. "Cel?"

She fingered the carving almost reverently and whispered, "Mark of Rune…"

"What?"

"Nothing."

"So, what do we think?" Terra asked the group.

"It's a monolith," Celes answered.

Edgar looked up at it. "For Genji?"

Celes knew the answer. She didn't want the others to raise questions, but she had little choice other than to proceed. They watched curiously as she drew her Rune Blade, chanting quietly under her breath. The etchings on the steel lit, and she buried the blade into the slot, keeping hold of the hilt with her right hand.

"A key?" Edgar mused softly.

The light of the glyphs on the wall danced across the stone surface in a steady stream, flowing directly into the Rune Blade. With the glow of the monolith extinguished, Celes withdrew the sword, and there was a loud grating of stone on stone as the rock wall parted to reveal an inner chamber.

Only, it wasn't really a chamber.

Before them was an infinite expanse of tranquil water, the hazy sky reflecting perfectly on its glassy surface. Stone pillars rose from the water, encircling a single pedestal and casting ominous shadows over the dark sword's resting place.

"O…kay. I'm getting a feeling of déjà vu," Locke commented dryly. "Is this another one of those inter-dimensional realms?"

Instead of replying, Celes took a confident step forward, finding the water's mirrored surface to be solid, rippling lightly under her foot. She took another step, and slowly she made her way towards the pedestal. From out of the darkness, a deeper shadow materialized, nearly indistinguishable as it slithered alongside the former general.

Of its own will, her hand reached out to the Ragnarok. Her companions expressed concern, but they were drowned out by the whisper in her mind; the sword was calling to her. When her fingers wrapped around the hilt of the cursed blade, a strange sensation coursed through her. For a single instant, a glint of black flitted across her eyes.

_FLASH_

_The champion of the Goddesses faced his father's murderer. The sorcerer was powerful and crafty, but the knight embedded his sword in his foe. A spell was cast, and the sorcerer was pulled into the Einlanzer. The legendary blade lost its pure white shine, instead becoming tainted with the black of the sorcerer's soul and transforming into the Ragnarok._

_FLASH_

_The knight slowly succumbed to the blade's corruption. His skin paled, his eyes darkened, and his behavior grew possessive and cruel._

_FLASH_

_When finally the day came the knight turned against his kingdom, a new hero rose: the knight's own son. Wielding the sacred Illumina, the son pierced his father's nearly impenetrable armor and felled the once mighty warrior._

_FLASH_

_A mausoleum was built in the hidden depths of the earth, and the knight, his armor, and the accursed blade were laid to rest. A guardian was chosen to protect the knight's legacy and await the coming of the heir of Rune._

_FLASH_

"Cel?" Terra put a hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Startled, Celes let go of the Ragnarok's hilt. Her hand trembled. The shadow watched silently.

"Yeah… Fine…"

Terra studied the odd expression on the taller woman's face. "I really don't think you should do this…"

"It'll be okay, Ter," Celes insisted.

"No, I don't think it will be. It's corrupting you already!"

The blonde met her friend's gaze. "All right. We'll walk away."

Though suspicious, the half-Esper turned to leave, making sure Celes was following. The former general indeed trailed along, though at a slower pace. As Terra reached the others, the knight slowed even more, and finally turned on her heel and strode back to the pedestal. Locke and Sabin yelled at her to stop, but with frightening determination, Celes again grasped the hilt of the damned sword.

Just as the Ragnarok was pulled free from its pedestal, a wall of blue flame erupted from the water's surface, cutting Celes off from the others. The thrall was broken, and the blonde tore her eyes from the obsidian blade to look to her companions. Concerned, she took several steps towards them, but when she sensed a dark presence behind her, she stopped and tilted her head. Instinctively, she dodged to the side just as the shadow lunged, slashing a thin blade at her neck.

Both regained their balance, and Celes held the Ragnarok menacingly. "What do you want?"

"Perhaps the better question is, what do _you_ want?"

The voice sounded familiar, but Celes couldn't place it. "I grow tired of riddles and cryptic sayings. Who are you?"

The figure, still concealed by the shadows, began circling her. "As the prophesy goes, 'Thou who covet the power within the Sword of the Damned shall face thy darkest enemy.' So let us think… Who could that possibly be?"

The voice registered in Celes' mind, and true fear, an emotion she rarely ever felt, bubbled to the surface of her consciousness.

The dark being gave a low chuckle. "Oh, I wish you could see the look on your face as it dawns on you: the realization that your own worst enemy…" One more step, and light streaked across the figure's face. "…is you."

_Author's note: Mwahahahaha…ha. Yes, originally, the Gem Box is at the top of Fanatics' Tower, and Alexander is found in Doma after fighting Wrexsoul. Also, Fanatics' Tower technically has 38 floors, or so I counted._

_Attributions (must give credit where's it's due): I tried to make Triangle Island a cross between the Bermuda Triangle and the Island of the Damned from Chrono Cross. Inspiration for the illusionary chamber came from Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time (the Water Temple). Next chapter's teaser:_

_A figure on its knees before Celes. "Become who you were born to be."_


	24. Shadows of Legacy

_Disclaimer: Don't own it. There are a couple allusions to _Xena_ and _Buffy_ just for fun. Oh, and _Pirates of the Caribbean_, too._

_I truly apologize for the long delay. I'm going to college all year round, and classes have kept me busy. Writer's block was an issue, too. I tried to at least mention most of the side quests, but I didn't develop them fully for sake of moving the story along. Enjoy the twenty-fourth installment, where an important revelation is finally made! _

Chapter Twenty-four: Shadows of Legacy

Strago's earlier words to her hit home as she stared into all too familiar blue eyes. _You mustn't let your fear of yourself take over._ The figure was clad in armor so black it looked to be made of the shadows themselves, but the face was unmistakable. Celes actually took a step back.

"Y…you're—"

"You," the shadow affirmed. "I'm the one you've been trying to run away from. That deepest, darkest part of you that you just can't seem to get rid of."

Celes seemed to shrink away from her dark twin, looking uncharacteristically fragile. "Why can't you leave me alone?" she whispered.

The sinister double tilted her head to the side. "Because I'm stronger. Because I've always been stronger. Face it: you're nothing without me. Who made you who you are today? Me. The force that brought a continent to its knees? Me. The strength that made men tremble at your name?" The shadow smiled. "Me."

"I don't need you," Celes asserted softly. "Not anymore."

"Oh, look at you. You're shaking. Trying to be brave, to pretend that you can make it without me." The shadow's sympathetic smile turned sour. "You're so pathetically weak."

The Ragnarok was at the twin's throat in the blink of an eye. "Stop it," Celes nearly growled.

The shadow grinned sadistically. "There I am." The tip of the damned sword lowered uncertainly. "You fight it, but you'll never win. You will never be rid of me. But go ahead," she taunted. "You hold the Ragnarok… Use it. Kill me." Dark Celes stepped forward so that the half-raised sword touched her chest. "Just one little jab, and it'll be over."

Celes' hand trembled. The wall of blue flame continued to blaze unrelentingly, keeping her from her friends.

"Celes!" Sabin warned. "Don't let it win!"

"We're with you, Cel!" Locke followed.

The darker knight groaned in disgust. "Gods, you all make me sick. How can you put up with that, the constant whining?" she asked, gesturing towards the thief. She let out an overly sarcastic and mocking whine. "Cel, Terra, Rachel, wah!" She flipped a lock of blonde hair back over her shoulder. "You should have killed him long ago. You're not exactly known for your patience with whiners." She donned a look of thoughtfulness. "But then again, there's that _tiny_ little detail. That one flaw that you try so hard to hide, hoping nobody ever finds out that deep down, you're just a lovesick little—"

The dark double found herself pinned against a nearby stone pillar in a split second.

"Ooo, struck a nerve. And still I'm forced to wonder…" The shadow shoved her counterpart away and circled around her. "…what happened to the Ice Queen? Cold-hearted bitch of the Empire, without a spark of emotion, or humanity for that matter? Don't tell me the almighty General Celes has been felled by a petty thief."

Celes swung the Ragnarok, but the shadow ducked under it, jabbed an elbow into Celes' jaw, and backhanded her across the face. The shadow spun and kicked Celes square in the stomach, sending the knight back into the stone pillar and sinking to the ground.

"Because, if that's the case…" Dark Celes took hold of the back of Celes' clothes and, with tremendous strength, dragged Celes across the encircled area and rammed her head first into another column. "…it's truly unfortunate."

Dazed by the blow, Celes spat blood from her mouth and tried to stand, but she only managed to get into a kneeling position.

Dark Celes squatted down beside her. "What if I just went over there and snapped his neck? What would you do?" She smirked. "Would you cry? Would you put on that stoic mask of yours and try to be brave? Or would you try to kill me?" She mockingly patted Celes' shoulder. "Let's find out."

As the shadow stood, Celes followed and violently twisted her double's arm behind her back. A cry of pain turned into an amused chuckle.

"There's my girl. I knew it'd just take a bit more prodding. But of course…" The shadow heaved Celes over her shoulder. "…that's not enough."

Ever agile, Celes landed on her feet in front of her dark twin. She threw her head back to stun her opponent, then backhanded her. Celes raised the Ragnarok, but after a prolonged moment of consideration, she threw the cursed sword off to the side and drew her Rune Blade as the shadow watched curiously.

"Interesting," the twin murmured as she bore her own replica of the Rune Blade.

For the Returners, it was difficult to tell who struck first: their companion or the doppelganger. The fire that separated them distorted their view, and the situation was confusing enough as it was. Save for the armor, the evil twin was a perfect reflection of Celes, even down to each individual attack. Every step, every movement of Celes' was mirrored exactly by the darker swordswoman.

When eventually their blades became locked together, neither warrior could out-muscle the other. A simultaneous shove, and both stumbled back, quickly retorting with a strong arc. In a split second, their swords were at each other's throats.

Dark Celes gave a disgruntled sigh. "Why do you persist?"

Celes' answer came out before she even realized what it was. "Because I have something that you never had."

"Really. What's that?"

Celes glanced past the wall of flame at the people watching anxiously. "Friends."

Swiftly knocking the shadow's blade away with her free arm, Celes punched her rival in the jaw with her sword-holding hand. An elbow jab and backhand followed, and Celes spun, thrusting her sword back into the double's torso. Locke and Terra both cringed at the sight of the Rune Blade sticking out of the look-alike's back.

When Celes slid her blade out, the dark knight staggered and fell to her knees. "You still don't get it, do you?" she rasped.

Celes suddenly winced and held a hand to her abdomen as a searing pain stabbed through her. Pulling her hand away, she was shocked to find blood covering it, and she too fell to her knees. Terra cried out to her friend, but she wasn't heard.

"You can't kill me without killing yourself," the shadow reminded weakly. "I'm a part of you, whether you like it or not. Your strength, your skill, your instinct." She coughed. "I can tell you now you won't survive the coming battle if you don't accept this."

Celes looked up from the ground in surprise. "What?"

The double stood shakily and picked up the discarded Ragnarok. "To conquer others is to have power." She threw the obsidian blade to Celes' feet. "To conquer yourself is to know the way."

The pain left Celes, and she found that no gaping wound marred her stomach. She took the Ragnarok in hand and followed the shadow in standing. "That's it? That's all this was? A ruse to conquer my dark side so I wouldn't be so easily corrupted by the blade?"

"Exactly. And you're the first to ever succeed. No one else has ever come close because no one else possesses the skill you have, the control. You are the prodigy, Celes. The Child of Destiny."

"What? …Why? Why me?"

"It is your fate…as the last decedent of Rune." The shadow suddenly looked Celes right in the eye. "You…are aware of your lineage…?"

Celes hesitated a moment before slowly nodding once.

"Then you understand your duty…" The entity fell to its knees as if to bow and whispered so that only Celes could hear. "_Heir of Genji."_

Celes drew a shaky breath. A light flashed, and the wall of blue flame dissipated. When the realm became again dim, the Returners saw that Celes now bore the armor the entity had. No long black as shadow, the armor gleamed a platinum sheen with intricately-detailed gold trim.

The dark version of Celes was nowhere to be seen. In her place, a figure swathed in worn but colorful robes stood, its helmet veiling all but eyes that glittered with untold wisdom.

"Who are you?" the blonde knight breathed.

"I was once Radius, advisor to Odin, mentor of Genji and his son, Aegis. Undertaking the guardianship of Genji's tomb, I became the Master of Mimicry. Call me what you will."

"Mimicry?"

"Whenever a person stumbled upon Genji's tomb, I could see into his soul, allowing me to transform into his greatest enemy, his worst fear, or what have you."

"Me," Celes mused.

The mimic tilted his head. "You fear yourself immensely. What you've done, what you're capable of, who you are."

"What I might become… You think I'm some great hero, but…how can I be? The blood on my hands… I've made so many mistakes."

"Everything that has happened, everything that you have done has only served to set you on your path."

A stream of whispers invaded Celes' mind, overlapping one another and nearly overwhelming in their force.

_You think you know who you are…_

_You were born the Angel of Death._

…_what's to come…_

_You will know it before the end._

…_you haven't even begun._

The mimic spoke, echoing a final whisper. "Become who you were born to be."

((ooo))

"Gogo? You want to call a millennium-old entity _Gogo_?"

Locke shrugged, and Edgar threw up his hands. The warriors, consisting of a king, a prince, a thief, an assassin, a retainer, a knight, a mage, and now a mimic, made their way back through the underground passages towards the surface. Knowledge of the conversation between Celes and Gogo (as he was apparently to be called) was severely limited for the others. What they knew was that the mimic was the guardian of Genji's line and the Ragnarok, and that the armor Celes was given was the armor of Genji himself, reputably impenetrable if worn by one worthy. Despite repeated inquiries along the way, neither the blonde knight nor the mysterious newcomer offered further explanation.

The knight in question, with the Ragnarok strapped securely to her back, walked a ways behind the group as if in a daze. Eventually, it was Shadow that dared a private word with her.

"A heavy burden, that," he noted, referring to the damned sword.

"And?"

"Can't figure out why."

"We all have our secrets," she reminded flatly.

Shadow grimaced beneath his mask. "That we do… You _do _know the meaning of 'Ragnarok,' don't you?"

"'Doom of the gods,' derived from the name of the sorcerer himself. End of days kind of thing," she added flippantly.

The ninja sent Celes a pointed look and spoke ominously. "Not all secrets should be kept, Celes."

Celes walked in silence for a moment. When she finally turned to Shadow, he was no longer at her side. "Indeed…"

When the warriors finally reached the surface, Gogo stood basking in the fresh air and cool breeze as Setzer was signaled to land the airship.

"A thousand years…" he mused.

"You'd probably feel that wind a whole lot better if you weren't wearing that helmet," Locke suggested. When the mimic made no motion to remove it, the thief shook his head. "As stubborn as Shadow…"

"I heard that," the assassin called lazily.

"Then take the hint," the thief threw back teasingly.

The _Falcon_ landed, and the warriors were greeted by Setzer, Strago, Relm, and Gau.

"I was beginning to worry," the pilot said.

"We got a little bit…" Edgar cast a sideways glance to Strago, "swallowed."

The old man held up his hands. "I warned you."

"That you did."

"Who's the shrouded one?" Relm asked, gesturing to the newest member of the group.

"This is Gogo," Edgar answered, ignoring Locke's triumphant smirk. "He's a mimic."

"A mimic?" Relm scrunched up her face. "What's he going to do, pretend he's trapped in a glass box?"

Celes raised an eyebrow. "That's a mime."

Relm looked sheepishly down at the deck. "Oh. Right. Then what _can_ he do?"

"Then what _can_ he do?" a young girl asked.

Relm looked in surprise to where Gogo stood, but the mimic wasn't there. In his place was an exact clone of herself. "Hey!"

"Hey!" the double imitated.

"How did you…?"

"How did you…?"

"Stop that!"

"Stop that!"

"No, stop _that_!"

"No, stop _that_!"

"Grrr…"

"Grrr…"

Celes rolled her eyes. "Gogo!"

The imposter looked up at the older woman with an innocent expression. "What?" Celes merely shook her head. "Fuddy duddy," the mimic muttered before transforming back into his true self.

"Incredible," Strago breathed. The mage noticed the sword on Celes' back, "Celes, is that…is that the Ragnarok?"

The knight nodded slowly.

Setzer, who stood behind Celes, tilted his head. "So this is the infamous Sword of the Damned."

The gambler reached for the hilt, but Celes whirled around while grabbing his wrist. "Don't."

Setzer drew back from the near growl as if struck. "My, aren't we possessive."

Gogo shook his head. "You wouldn't like what it would do to you."

"Like what it's doing to Celes?" Terra wondered bitterly.

Celes held back a sigh. "Terra, I already told you I'm fine."

"Yeah. Right before you made a mad dash for that…that abomination."

"Terra—"

"That thing is going to destroy you, Celes."

"And why would that matter, considering the incredibly high probability that we're all going to die anyway?" Celes snapped harshly before storming below deck.

"Let her go," Gogo advised Terra. "There are many things you don't understand, young one, but you will. When the time is right, you will understand."

Terra crossed her arms defiantly. "Maybe I want to understand _now_."

There were various murmurs of agreement from the others, but the mimic held up his hand. "It is not my place to tell you."

"Then how art we supposed to trust thee?" Cyan asked. "Or the general?"

"By good faith."

"Good faith…" The Doman rubbed his forehead as if pained. "'tis a hard thing to come by these days."

"Indeed."

Sabin watched as Cyan continued to rub his head. "Cyan, are you all right?"

"Fatigued."

"Aren't we all."

"Maybe we should think about a rest," Terra proposed. "Just a short break to relax before going that last mile?"

Edgar nodded thoughtfully. "I agree. We could all use it."

"I wish to return to Doma," Cyan stated wearily but gratefully.

Relm tugged on Strago's cloak. "I want to go back home!"

The old man looked fondly at his granddaughter. "As do I."

After a couple minutes of listening to the gang decided where everyone wanted to go, Locke slipped down below deck. Facing away from him, Celes sat on one of the sofas in the lobby.

"How're you doing?" He put a gentle hand on her shoulder, but she immediately jerked away as if his touch burned. "Other than kind of touchy lately. You know, in the non-physical sense," he added with a small grin.

"Sorry," she murmured. "Just edgy."

"I noticed." The thief plopped down on the sofa across from her. "The others figured it was time we all took a mini vacation. They're choosing destinations right now."

"Really." She didn't sound too interested.

"Yeah. Relm, Strago, and, strangely enough, Shadow are headed to Thamasa. Cyan's going to Doma, and Sabin and Gau are planning some walkabout thing or something."

"The others?"

"Terra's feeling nostalgic and wants to go to Narshe. Ed and Setzer are going with her. Gogo gave the impression he'd go where you go."

"And you?"

"Haven't decided yet. Ed 'strongly advised' that no one travel alone, so I'll probably end up in Doma with Cyan."

"Doma," Celes whispered.

"What?"

"I've never been there."

"Well, now's your chance."

"Yeah…"

((ooo))

With no verbal opposition from Cyan, Celes found herself in the Doman castle with the retainer, Locke, and Gogo. The fortress had a very hollow feeling, reminding her of the Ancient Castle. Something prickled at the back of her neck the deeper within the walls she walked, and it was quite unsettling to the normally impassive knight.

The three kept a respectful distance from Cyan as he wandered the halls, especially when he entered his bedchamber. It was so quiet, Celes swore she could hear the dust settle after being disturbed by the intruders. The Doman eventually made his way to the throne room, where he drew is katana and knelt in front of the empty throne. The three left him in peace.

Celes' unease continued to grow.

Locke noticed the blonde looking around as if searching for something. Her hand was gripping the pommel of her Rune Blade. "What's up?"

Distractedly, she answered. "I have this feeling…"

"What feeling?"

"Like we're being watched."

"Someone else is here," Locke guessed.

"Or some_thing_," Gogo followed. The air grew cold, and the walls seemed to moan. "The spirits are restless."

Celes was clearly agitated. "We shouldn't be here."

A far-off scream echoed eerily, and Locke shifted nervously. "I'm beginning to agree with you."

Suits of armor and mounted shields and swords began to rattle. "Get Cyan," Celes ordered. "We're leaving."

Locke ran down the hall and into the royal chamber, while Celes and Gogo followed on his heels. Cyan lay unconscious on the ground before the throne.

"Cyan?" Locke shook the Doman, but there was no response. "Cyan!"

Still the Doman did not stir.

"There is a dark power at work here," Gogo intoned.

"So much for a break," Celes muttered. A sudden wave of dizziness overtook her, and she swayed unsteadily on her feet with a hand held to her head.

"Celes?"

Locke and Gogo watched in alarm as the woman collapsed to the ground. The thief took a step towards her, but he too was hit by a blast of vertigo. As Locke fell, Gogo suffered his turn.

"Bloody hell," was the last thing out of the mimic's mouth before he succumbed to darkness.

((ooo))

Locke slowly regained consciousness. His head was swirling, and when he opened his eyes, he realized the air was swirling as well. Shaking his head to relieve his grogginess, Locke stood and glanced at his surroundings. The air appeared as thick as paint with an invisible brush sweeping through, mixing the colors in a hypnotic pattern. The solid surface on which he stood seemed only an island—one of many—in the endless expanse of undulating hues.

That's when he noticed the prone figure on one of the other islands. "Celes?" Locke looked around again and saw the frame of a doorway standing nearby. Taking a deep breath, the treasure hunter stepped through and found himself on a new platform. This one had two doorways in front of him but no way back behind him. Choosing one of the portals, he ended up back on the island he woke up on.

"Fantastic," he grumbled.

Locke took the same path again, only this time choosing the other portal. This one landed him next to a figure sitting in a meditation position.

"Gogo? You all right?"

The mimic looked up and nodded, and Locke helped him to stand. Another chain of doors loomed ahead, conquered only by trial and error, until finally they came upon Celes. She stood patiently waiting for them, and the three merely exchanged nods of greeting. Passing through the only portal on that platform, they came to a much larger island, one door standing dead center.

"What about Cyan?" Locke asked.

Gogo walked confidently to the door. "I don't think he's here."

When the mimic disappeared through the portal, Locke looked to Celes. The knight simply shrugged and followed the mimic through the door, With a sigh, Locke trailed along behind her.

((ooo))

"Terra, are you sure about this?" Edgar glanced at the frozen Esper up ahead. "I mean, last time…"

"I'll be all right," the mage insisted. "I think I know how to control that part of me now."

"If you're sure…"

Mog stopped dead in his tracks, and Setzer nearly stepped on him. "Kupo…you hear that?"

Edgar and Terra also stopped and listened. A scuttling sound could be heard. From around the corner in the icy maze, a large shadow drew closer.

Setzer's eyes widened. "Um…guys?"

"More moogles?" Terra wondered in unconvincing hopefulness.

Edgar drew his Flame Saber. "I'm inclined to think not."

"The sasquatch?" Setzer offered.

The shadow loomed closer and larger. "Ku…po."

"Was that a no?"

Mog readied his spear. "Kupo."

"Great."

Setzer took out his metal cards, and Terra drew the Atma Weapon. They kept their gazes high, awaiting whatever enormous beast came around the bend. A shrill cry startled the four, and the shadow suddenly shrank. The warriors looked down to find a small blue-scaled creature standing fearlessly before them.

"A lizard?" Setzer laughed. "We were afraid of a big lizard?"

"Setzer…" Terra warned.

"Kupo. Not a lizard. A dragon."

At Mog's declaration, the three humans whipped their heads around to look at the small creature. Yellow spines on its back stood rigid and its tail lashed about. The tiny dragon took a challenging stance.

"I think you made it angry," Edgar whispered to the gambler.

Another screech pierced the cold air, causing the warriors to flinch. Setzer shrugged. "No biggie."

The dragon sucked in a lungful of air.

"Take cover!" Mog shouted.

A blast of ice-cold fire leapt from the creature's mouth, which the four barely escaped.

Edgar called over to Setzer. "You had to say it, didn't you?"

Terra readied an incantation of scorching flame. "Horse around later! Fight now!"

((ooo))

Locke looked around. "That was weird."

He, Celes, and Gogo had just finished a bizarre sequence of what they could only assume were Cyan's dreams. There had been Magitek Armor, a chase through Phantom Forest with angry spirits in pursuit, and something about a guy with a scone. The three found themselves back in Doma. Only, it wasn't. The castle was distorted in impossible ways. Colors were inverted. Entire rooms were flipped upside down. Hallways shrank and dwindled down to an infinite point. Only the path to the throne room remained more or less undistorted. Distant screams of agony from hundreds of spirits floated to their ears.

Warily, the three entered the royal chamber. Off to the side, they saw Cyan ensnared in a writhing prison of fire as it fought to consume him. Locke made a step towards the Doman, but Celes stopped him, pointing to the dais at the head of the chamber. The throne was wreathed in flame, and upon it sat a devilish-looking sage, his eyes black as coal.

"Who the hell are you, and what have you done to our friend?" Locke demanded.

"I am Wrexsoul."

"The Soul Eater," Gogo whispered. "He feeds off the torment of others."

"This man's soul is mine," the demon continued. "I have sensed his anguish growing day by day and when finally it became too much for him, I summoned him here."

"We want him back!"

"You are in my realm. You belong to me."

Celes drew her sword. Wrexsoul gave a deep laugh that seemed to reverberate throughout the chamber.

"Ah, this one has pain that rivals the Doman's."

"Celes, get back," Gogo warned.

Before she could react, the knight felt a searing grip close around her heart and mind, and she fell to the ground in convulsions. Locke called to her, but Gogo held him back. Wrexsoul raised a hand, and the blazing throne disgorged a small army of his fiery minions. His voice hissed out a hate-filled command.

"_Feed on her_!" Dozens of Devourers streamed forward and enveloped the woman, only adding to her torture. "May the living flame devour your soul."

((ooo))

"Oomph!"

Edgar, Terra, Setzer, and Mog landed in a heap on straw-covered ground. After having freed the Esper Tritoch from its icy prison, the cliff gave way, and the four warriors were cast down into the darkened abyss below.

"Ow."

"Kupo."

A low rumble drew their attention before they could stand. In front of them was a very large pair of white hairy feet. The warriors craned their necks up in unison to see a massive and muscular yeti staring down at them, not looking happy with their unplanned intrusion.

"Uh…hi."

((ooo))

Locke drew his dirks and rushed at the demon lord. He didn't get four paces before a smothering pain stopped him in his tracks. The thief clutched at his head and dropped to his knees. Gogo grabbed one of Locke's arms and dragged him back to a safe distance.

"He will seize upon your inner turmoil if you get too close," Gogo told him. "It's not great enough for him to take hold fully, but you'd best stay back."

A dozen of Wrexsoul's spawn drew closer.

"What are we going to do?" Locke grunted through clenched teeth.

Gogo stood up and bowed his head, holding his hands away from his body. His form rippled as air would in sweltering heat.

((ooo))

Relm harrumphed. "That damn chest needs to find its own damn coral!"

"It doesn't exactly have arms or legs," Shadow reminded.

The child could tell the ninja was smirking. "Shut up. It could hire a delivery service…that's not us."

"And pay them in what? Coral?"

"Shut! Up!" Shadow chuckled quietly, which only aggravated Relm more. "I'll paint your portrait!"

The assassin didn't seem too worried.

Strago let out a hushed exclamation. "There! Up ahead! It's Hidon!" He raised his staff. "This is for you, Gungho."

((ooo))

Wrexsoul looked on in confusion. The robed one was different from the others. Certainly not human. His soul could not be touched. Then he changed, his form remolding itself into the appearance of a familiar blonde clad in black leather.

"Interesting." Wrexsoul did not sound pleased. The clone of Celes reached back over her shoulders and drew twin blades out of their sheaths. "_Very_ interesting," the demon amended, a touch of fear in his tone.

Locke couldn't help but feel awe as pseudo-Celes lunged at the nearest Devourer and sliced it in triads. As it went up in a puff of smoke, she moved to the next, fluidly as water but with the fury of fire. Gogo truly was the Master of Mimicry. As Celes, he moved with the same speed, grace, and passion that the thief always admired in the knight.

Sparing a glance to the real Celes as she lay trapped in flame, he prayed Gogo would be able to break Wrexsoul's hold.

((ooo))

Sabin loved the freedom of the wilderness. Gau seemed to be enjoying himself as well. The two wandered the plains and valleys east of Narshe with no particular destination in mind. Sabin used the time to meditate and focus his energy. Gau would attempt to imitate the martial artist before ultimately becoming bored and running off to chase some creature or another.

Turning a bit to the North, Sabin and Gau both picked up on the faintest whiff of smoke. Curiosity got the better of the prince, and he continued north to find the source. The two travelers came upon a cabin amidst a small grove of dying trees. Just as Sabin raised a hand to knock, the door swung open and his jaw dropped.

"Master Duncan?"

((ooo))

Wrexsoul stood from the throne and stepped off the dais. Turning her short swords around in her hands, pseudo-Celes raised her left blade to hold off a Devourer while she sliced through its midsection with her right. The same blade swept back to her right and into another minion. When two spawn rushed her, she turned away from them and thrust her swords back, catching each junior Soul Eater in the chest.

Sensing Wrexsoul closing in, the faux knight slammed her two blades together. They fused into one katana as another change rippled through the mimic. A reflection of Cyan turned and cleaved his weapon down upon the demon lord. Wrexsoul sidestepped the strike, and pseudo-Cyan began a sinuous attack, his katana weaving patterns in strong wide arcs.

Wrexsoul threw fire, but the mimic was too fast, and his katana grazed the demon's flesh on more than one occasion. Finally a blast of flame caught the imposter Doman, sending him back through the air. Seamlessly and while still aerial, the mimic shifted shape again. After landing on all fours, the face of Sabin looked up with a feral gleam in his eyes, and his claws scraped across the stone floor as he lunged for his foe. Perplexed by the alteration, Wrexsoul received several gashes before he even registered the attack.

The flames surrounding Celes and Cyan began to wane.

Six Devourers banded together and tried to overtake the cloned martial artist, but he transformed into Shadow and took two out with deadly-accurate shuriken. The other four continued their blitz, and the doppelganger ninja turned to run up a nearby wall, changing back into Celes as he did. The faux knight flipped backwards off the wall, slashed through two spawn, and landed behind the remaining duo. Swift opposing arcs of her blades fell both.

Turning to face Wrexsoul, Gogo-Celes extended a hand and chanted an icy incantation. The demon sent his own stream of fire, and the two forces collided. Locke finally rose from the ground and came up behind the Soul Eater. A slash from the thief's dirks broke Wrexsoul's concentration, and the mimic's ice overpowered the fire. Frozen liquid surged over the demon's body and encased him. Crossing her blades at Wrexsoul's neck, the mimicked knight forcefully pulled them apart, severing head from body.

The fiery prisons dissipated, freeing Celes and Cyan from their torment. Though physically unharmed, it was clear both were exhausted. Gogo-Celes stood surveying the throne room, blades still out and appearing ready for another fight.

After struggling to her feet, the real Celes glanced at the mimic. "Stop looking like me. It's creepy."

Gogo smirked, then changed back to his true form. "As you wish."

Locke put on a look of innocence. "But, but you…he…she…was in black leather…"

Celes gave the thief a strange look that quickly turned dark. "I don't do black leather."

"Actually, what I mimic, what I reflect, is one's self image." Somehow, they can tell Gogo is grinning under his helmet. "Seeing that most people have more than one, I choose the most interesting."

Celes turned her glare on Gogo. "I hope you mean useful."

Gogo gave a patronizing nod. The realm shifted and faded, and the warriors awoke in the real Doma. Groggily, the four stood, wobbling slightly on their feet.

"I thank thee for thy aid," Cyan said, his voice strained. "All of thee. I am truly sorry for the trials thou endured on my behalf."

Locke shook his head. "It wasn't your fault."

"All that matters is that you are well." Gogo added.

"I…I am," Cyan affirmed. "I saw…I saw my wife. And my son. They gave me the strength, the courage to continue on. I feel a weight has been lifted from me."

Locke smiled sadly. "A good feeling, isn't it?"

"'tis indeed."

Celes remained silent.

((ooo))

Edgar scratched his chin. "So…did anyone actually get to _relax_?"

Sabin shrugged. "Rigorous training session aside, I was quite relaxed."

"Well, look at it this way: we all gained something, right?" Terra proposed.

"Speak for yourself," Celes muttered.

"Well, each group," the mage amended. "Mog and Umaro, triumph of a childhood dream, spiritual release, mastering blitz… Things are starting to look up." Terra winced at Celes' venomous glare. "Well, for most of us… You know, you could at least try to be happy, Cel."

"I almost had my soul eaten. I have a right to be cranky."

Terra couldn't help but grin, and in spite of herself, Celes returned it.

"You said you guys fought a dragon?" Relm asked Edgar.

"Yeah. A big one."

"Huge," Setzer hastily agreed.

Terra shook her head disapprovingly. "It was smaller than Mog."

"Kupo."

"And a violent little brute," Edgar mumbled bitterly. "Nearly bit my arm off."

Terra rolled her eyes. "Ed, you baby. It's only a scratch."

"Oh yeah, a gaping hole where my arm used to be. Only a flesh wound."

Shying away from the general cheeriness of the group, Celes moved to the back of the airship. To her surprise, Cyan approached her a few minutes later.

"Not once since we first crossed paths have I shown any will to trust thee." The blonde raised a quizzical brow but said nothing. "And yet thou hast risked thy life, thy soul, to aid me. Why?"

"Well, burning hatred for each other aside," she began with the tiniest of grins, "an ally is an ally."

The older warrior nodded slowly, then looked at the blonde thoughtfully. "A tortured soul…'tis not an easy penance to bear."

Celes dropped her gaze. "But we have to, right? Otherwise, what more do we have to make us human?"

The Doman studied her for another moment. Finally, he glanced over his shoulder at the group of warriors before he answered. "Friends."

As Cyan left her side, Celes followed the path of his gaze. As she watched the Returners continue to trade stories, the knight nodded to herself.

((ooo))

Though no one admitted it outright, the warriors were searching for any excuse to delay going after Kefka. Their unspoken anxiety led them to decide on hunting down the last three dragons. They heard rumors of only one.

Setzer adjusted his trench coat. "A few people in Jidoor are saying a dragon tore its way into the Opera House."

Edgar thought for a moment, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Alright. Sabin, Locke, Celes, and I will take care of that. The rest of you split up and look for the other two."

Celes crossed her arms. "Uh huh. And what, pray tell, elected me into this group?"

"Nostalgia?" Locke suggested, trying to look innocent but failing miserably.

The woman swatted half-heartedly at the thief. "Jerks."

Setzer joined in the banter. "Well, if you're going to the Opera House, these clothes won't do at all. It should be a dress or nothing." He gestured below deck with a mischievous smirk. "I happen to have no dress in my cabin…"

"I hate you all."

Hours later found the four designated dragon hunters within the Opera House. The edifice was deserted as far as they could tell, which wasn't surprising. Walking directly into the main audience chamber, the quartet found what they sought. Standing only on its hind legs, it was taller than any of the dragons the warriors faced before.

"Hmph. Center stage." Locke prodded Celes with his elbow. "Jealous?"

A hard punch to his arm was her answer.

"I'm really tired of fighting dragons," Edgar whispered.

"This was your idea," Sabin reminded.

"Apparently I didn't think this one through."

"Apparently." The king sighed. "Here we go again."

The four drew their weapons and approached the stage. The dragon merely watched as they neared, seeming unconcerned by any means. Edgar raised his crossbow and released a bolt. The arrow bounced harmlessly off the leathery hide, and the dragon glared down at the king.

"Uh oh."

The beast lifted its head towards the vaulted ceiling let out a roar that shook the building's structure. It stomped its foot, and a tidal wave of dirt rose up and crashed down on the warriors.

"Dragon of Earth," Sabin deduced, coughing in the dust.

"Just slice and dice, gentlemen," Celes said, making her way to the primeval creature.

Ducking under the dragon's stubby front arms, she slashed at a hind leg, while Locke leapt in and buried one of his dirks in the other. Both were swatted away like flies. Sabin called on Duncan's teachings and executed his highest-level blitz. Bum Rush left the dragon lacerated on all sides and exceptionally peeved.

The dragon's enormous tail crashed down onto the stage, causing the ground to shake violently. The Figaro brothers, further from the quake's epicenter, managed to remain standing. Closer to the upheaval, Locke and Celes were knocked off their feet. The knight landed on her back with the thief directly on top of her. Locke's agile reflexes allowed him the presence of mind to cushion his fall with his arms, and as he looked down at Celes, the thief suddenly became hyperaware of his body pressing against hers.

If only for an instant, the battle faded into the background as Celes brushed a strand of hair from Locke's face, and the thief unconsciously lowered his head. A second of hesitation, and the moment came to an abrupt halt when the Earth Dragon let out another thunderous roar that made the opera hall tremble. The warrior again taking over, Celes roughly pushed Locke off of her, picked her sword up from the ground, and charged the beast. The treasure hunter let out a disgruntled sigh before also clambering to his feet.

The battle continued, resulting in the complete and total destruction of the stage. Ultimately, the dragon was defeated. Battered and worn, the four warriors wandered the about the Opera House as they awaited Setzer's return.

A while later, Locke stepped into the magnificent white hall and searched for a break in the near blinding light and white marble. Squinting through the brightness, he saw her standing at a floor-to-ceiling window, gazing out over the ocean expanse beyond.

His footsteps echoed in the hall, and Celes turned as he approached. "What?"

"How long is this going to continue?"

Celes' brows knit together in confusion. "Until we find the last two dragons and kill Kefka?"

"That's not what I meant."

"Then what?" Locke took her hand, but she pulled away. "What are you doing?"

The thief sighed. "This is what I'm talking about. Why do you fight what's going on? How can you ignore what's happening between us?"

"Nothing's happening, Locke."

"Don't say that like you believe it, Celes, because I know you don't. Why do you deny it?"

She looked away. "Because I have to."

"What, are you afraid to let yourself feel something?"

"But I _don't_, and that's the problem!" The thief stared at her in silence, dumbstruck at seeing tears in her eyes. "I try, but I can't! I can't _feel_, Locke! I don't feel _anything_!" When he continued to not say anything, Celes took a deep breath to compose herself. "It gets worse day by day. There's pain, but beneath that…numbness. It's spreading, seeping into every part of me, and I can't stop it—"

Locke unexpectedly took her by the shoulders and claimed her mouth with his. Startling both of them, Celes clung to the thief as though her life depended on it, crushing the two together with bruising strength. It took all Locke's willpower to pull away. As he did, his world spun, his heart was racing, and a euphoric wave of heat pulsed through him.

"Tell me you didn't feel that," he challenged breathlessly.

Looking him in the eye, Celes opened her mouth as if to reply, but no sound came out. She tried again to speak, but failed. Finally, she bowed her head.

"I…I didn't."

_Author's note: Is she lying? Is she telling the truth? I'm not sure I even know the answer… _

_I drastically shortened the dream sequence in Cyan's side quest due to extreme lack of wanting to write it—I left out the Dream Stooges and the Phantom Train, and the guy with a scone was just for fun. The "dress or nothing" line is my ode to _Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest_. Finally, in case you missed it, that last scene in the white hall was an allusion to a certain dream Celes had earlier in the story. _

_Reviews are my elixir, and here's next chapter's teaser:_

_Celes and Terra at Leo's grave. "I won't fail again. Because it ends here. One way or the other."_

_Locke embracing Celes. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you."_

_Celes at the door to Locke's room. "Just once, I want to feel…alive…"_


	25. Interlude

_Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy, but the poem halfway through the chapter is mine._

_As the title implies, it's a short chapter. The poem is me expressing Celes' doubts and fears without doing a corny monologue type thing. A passage of Locke's point of view is adapted from T. S. Eliot's "The Hollow Men," posted in the first chapter. Thanks to my few faithful reviewers!_

_**This chapter contains a non-explicit adult situation.**_

Chapter Twenty-five: Interlude

"No luck on finding the dragons, huh?" Edgar assumed.

Relm crossed her arms. "Squat."

"Nada," Mog agreed.

Setzer nodded. "Zilch. You?"

Sabin cracked his knuckles. "One down."

"Everyone all right?" Terra asked.

"Good," Celes answered flatly.

"Yep," Locke followed a little too quickly.

"Right as rain…"

Terra raised a brow, noticing the two were avoiding eye contact at all cost. "O…kay."

"If neither the Dragon of Poison nor Thunder has been found," Gogo began, "they are either exceptionally well hidden, or it is quite possible they are located in the one place we have not looked."

"Kefka's Tower," Strago deduced.

Edgar took a breath and let it out slowly. "Then I guess it's time we get a move on…"

Everyone was silent as the burden of the impending mission bore down on them.

A final idea for postponement came to Setzer. "We'll need to stock up on supplies."

"Yes!" Edgar nearly shouted. "Good."

The king's over-enthusiasm was not lost on the others.

"The shopkeeper in Thamasa is a close friend of mine," Strago said. "I'm sure he'd give us a good deal on his wares."

Celes perked up at the mention of Thamasa. The final battle loomed on the horizon—there was no escaping that—but there was one last thing she wanted to do before she couldn't turn back.

When they landed, the group scattered to their various destinations of choice within the village. Followed by Terra, Celes slowly made her way to a small clearing where a slab of white marble stood a stark contrast against its earthy surroundings. The green-haired mage waited silently as the blonde sank to her knees before the gravestone. One of Celes' hands fidgeted with an unseen object, and the other fingered the lush grass beneath her.

It was a long while before the knight spoke. "I couldn't save you, Leo. I wasn't strong enough…but I won't fail again. It ends here, one way or the other."

She placed the object on the stone and bent down to kiss it before walking away. As Terra stepped forward to put her hand on the smooth white marble, a glint of silver caught her eye. It was Celes' Imperial ring. A realization dawned on Terra as her friend's words rang in her mind.

"One way or the other…" She sighed. "Bye, Leo. See you soon…"

After looking upon the memorial a final time, Terra slowly turned and walked back into the village.

Celes, however, did not return right away but rather wandered through the trees. She came to the oak she had once sat under almost two years before and was surprised to find Locke there, studying it. She was about to turn back, but he already noticed her.

"Hey. What's up?"

Celes looked over her shoulder once, debating whether she should just leave. Instead, she drew nearer to the oak, shrugging.

"Anything wrong?" he asked, seeing her pensive expression.

"No."

"You sure?"

"I don't know. I just have this…horrible feeling…"

"About what?" Locke pressed.

"That…some of us might not make it back…" Celes said carefully. "I…" She stopped and lowered her head.

He pulled her into a close embrace and murmured softly in her ear. "Everything's going to be alright. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

"Some things you can't control," she muttered against his shoulder.

"Like what?"

"Fate… Choices made…"

Locke pulled back just enough to look into her eyes. Her reference to Fate gave him the feeling of ice in the pit of his stomach. He put his hand on her cheek.

"We'll be fine." Tentatively, he leaned closer to whisper against her lips, "I promise."

Celes allowed the kiss that followed but was unresponsive to it, not closing her eyes nor pressing her lips against his. Even this simple gesture meant to comfort only brought her pain.

Breaking gently away, Locke bit his lower lip. Instead of pleasure, though, he felt a chill run up his spine. Caressing her cheek once and giving her a small but reassuring smile, Locke turned and walked wordlessly out of the grove.

Celes watched him go with mixed feelings. There was pain, sorrow, even slight regret, but underneath it all there was something else she didn't expect.

_Fate:  
Cruel the game it plays._

_What the gods have foretold  
Leads to doomsday,  
Yet without fear, this task I take.  
_

_ Fate:  
Ironic the web it weaves._

_To painfully realize  
As I watch him leave  
My will to live he hath given me._

_Fate:  
A thought so simple before._

_My lips I do touch,  
To feel alive once more.  
I fear not death, but my life to lose._

_Fate:  
Of this I now ask why._

_Why do we yearn to live  
Knowing all things must die,  
With Judgment to face?_

_Fate:  
The path that awaits,_

_Set before my feet,  
Yet I hesitate,  
Trapped by ineffable qualm._

_Fate:  
The ultimate sacrifice._

_The value of life I weigh,  
Within my soul of ice,  
And there the dark truth lie—_

_Fate:  
Whatever will be will be.  
_

_At mine own hand I look,  
And the crimson stain I see,  
Eternal reminder, my doom to come._

_Fate:  
Wicked the choice I make._

((ooo))

The day grew late, and the Thamasa Inn was a welcome luxury for the warriors.

Closing the door of his room behind him, Locke slid his vest from his shoulders and absently threw it over a chair. After removing his shirt, he let himself fall back, landing on the mattress with a soft _plunk. _His legs dangled over the side, and his hands folded behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. Locke closed his eyes and inhaled deeply as his mind churned around a single puzzling thought.

He didn't understand the source of his unease. The way Celes had spoken earlier frightened him. It was as if she _knew_ what was going to happen. Whatever it was, he felt the strong need to protect her from it. After all, that's what he promised her, just as he had promised Terra.

But then he kissed her.

He had always been attracted to her, yes, but long ago he vowed never to let his feelings interfere again.

He scoffed.

A vow that lasted only until he stumbled across the first girl to catch his interest.

There was a soft knock on the door. Locke lifted his head and looked towards the door, debating whether he should answer it. Reluctantly, he stood and walked sleepily to the door, flipping on the light. Opening it, he was surprised to find the object of his thoughts.

"Celes?" He noticed that, though it was late and she wore no other field gear, the Ragnarok was still with her. "What is it?"

She opened her mouth as if to speak, but no words came out, and she dropped her gaze to the ground.

"Is anything wrong?" Again, she didn't answer. "I can't read minds, you know…"

"Make love to me," she finally whispered.

Wondering if he heard her right, Locke tried to search her eyes for an answer, but she kept her gaze averted in shame.

"Cel…"

"Just once, I want to feel…alive…"

Not even chained and beaten in South Figaro had she ever looked so vulnerable. His heart ached, and the realization hit him with perfect clarity. At some point, the line separating the idea of his affection from the reality, the emotion from the response, the desire from the spasm, became blurred. The line had become so distorted that somewhere along the way, he had stopped merely protecting her and had started loving her.

And in that moment of clarity, Locke gently cupped Celes' face and brought his lips to hers.

Tongues entwined and fingers snaked into hair. A break in contact, and the thief unclasped the belt of the Ragnarok. Celes watched rather intently as he set the sword on the floor. When she continued to stare at it, Locke gently turned her head towards him with two fingers on her chin. He gave her a reassuring kiss before peeling off her shirt.

He reached for the gauntlet covering her left arm, but her hand stopped him. Meeting her nervous gaze, he whispered, "Let me." With her hesitant nod of consent, Locke unfastened the three clasps and worked the leather off the complex steel limb. Pressing the synthetic hand to his chest and taking her in his arms, he kissed her deeply, shivering at the coldness of her skin.

The world around them faded.

Locke eased Celes back, slipping down her torso to remove both their lower garments. He placed tender kisses up her stomach and chest until finally, almost panting, he came forward and held his body above hers. A bead of sweat dripped off the tip of his nose and splashed down into the hollow of her neck. Breathlessly, he uttered her name, but she held a finger to his lips, and not a word was spoken further as he brought his body down into her. Celes let out a soft cry and arched her back, pressing herself up against him, and they gripped each other's shoulders so tightly there wasn't a sliver of space between their merging bodies.

They lost themselves to each other in a dance as ageless as time, entering a state of mind that could only be described as Bliss.

_Author's note: Four more chapters left! Next chapter's teaser: _

_Celes standing on the hill over Thamasa, shaking. "It's the Ragnarok."_

_Terra whispering to Celes with tears in her eyes. "I don't want to die."_

_The group standing at the tower's summit. "Come on, Kefka! Show yourself!"_

_Kefka stepping out of the shadows. "Have it your way."_

_Relm staring wide-eyed at Kefka. "Oh crap."_


	26. Dancing Mad

_Disclaimer: The only things I own are the plot interpretations and the rapidly declining-in-humor disclaimers. _

_-Wheeze- This chapter kicked my rear end all over creation and left me for the vultures. To make the sequence in Kefka's Tower easier to follow, I used three different text styles for the three teams. It still gets a little confusing, though, even for me._

Chapter Twenty-six: Dancing Mad

She awoke in a cold sweat covering her nude body. Ever-recurring dreams of the past and visions of the future had left her shaken, almost on the verge of panic. It wasn't until she felt a warm arm around her waist and an even warmer body snuggled up against her back that she found some comfort. She looked over her shoulder at Locke, still asleep with a few strands of hair covering his eyes.

It was then she realized what had woken her up; there was a strange flutter in her stomach, a flicker in her mind.

As smoothly as she could, she lightly kissed her lover's forehead and slid from his arms. Quietly, she dressed, the odd feeling growing heavier with every passing moment. It was a want. No, that wasn't right. It was a craving, a shadow being cast over all else.

After clasping the Rune Blade to her belt, Celes glanced around the room, her eyes eventually coming to rest on the Ragnarok. She took a couple steps towards it, then shook her head and walked to the door. She reached for the doorknob, but her hand stopped and hovered just before it as she looked back over her shoulder at the Ragnarok. Her palms began to sweat and her pulse quickened as her heart pounded in her ears and her breaths grew shallow and rapid as her mind swirled and the room became a blur of colors, all mixing into each other as they seemed to dance in place until finally she walked back across the room, the floor threatening to pull her down with every step, and grasped the hilt of the Ragnarok.

The overwhelming sensation evaporated.

Her pulse and breathing returned to normal.

The room stopped spinning and her vision was again clear.

With a sigh, Celes swung the sheath onto her back and carefully buckled the strap across her shoulder and under her arm. Seeming to be calmed by the sword in her possession, the knight proceeded out the door.

((ooo))

Locke came out of his room, sleepily scratching the back of his head. He saw Shadow leaning against the tree by the inn, gazing off into the distance with his arms crossed.

"You're up early," the thief noted.

"I don't sleep," the ninja responded.

"Ah."

"If you're looking for Celes…" Shadow didn't finish his sentence, instead inclining his head towards a small hill just outside Thamasa. "She came out about a half hour ago and has been up there ever since, watching the sunrise."

Locke looked in that direction, indeed seeing her standing atop the knoll with her back to the village. He ran a hand through his hair and scratched the back of his head again, realizing that Shadow had been gazing at Celes when he came out of his room.

"You seem fascinated by her."

Shadow tilted his head towards Locke, and past the mask, the thief could see amusement glinting in the ninja's eyes. His answer, however, was quite humorless.

"Let's just say the lady and I have a rocky past."

Locke chuckled. "An assassin and an Imperial general… I can just imagine…"

A fleeting connection between what the two men had just said crossed Locke's mind, but as quickly as it came, it was gone, so he shrugged it off. A moment of consideration, and the thief turned towards the café. He was greeted by the sight of Terra sitting at a small table with a mug of coffee.

The mage gave a small wave. "Good morning."

"Doesn't anyone sleep around here?"

"Apparently not."

"We have a long day ahead of us…"

Terra smiled, but the sadness behind it was lost on the thief. "I'll have plenty of time to rest once this is all over."

"Yeah, let's hope."

Gradually, the others began to wander into the café. For the most part, no one said anything, opting to remain in comfortable silence. Setzer was the first to leave, mumbling something about warming up the _Falcon_, and Gogo soon followed. Mog tapped Umaro on the arm to get his attention and gestured to follow him out the door.

One by one, the others reluctantly stood from their chairs and made their way to the airship. When only Locke, Terra, and Edgar were left, the three met each other's gaze and nodded in an unspoken pact; they started this together, and they were going to finish it together. As one, they got to their feet and walked out the door.

Before they reached the airship, Locke broke from the other two to get Celes. The knight still stood on the hilltop, and, partially concealed by the white cloak she wore, her Genji armor glinted in the orange light of the rising sun. As the thief watched, a zephyr of wind picked up, sweeping Celes' hair and cloak back almost majestically, and for a reason that eluded him, he felt sad.

((ooo))

Celes stared numbly at the ascending sun, fidgeting with a piece of faded blue cloth. Standing there, she felt a vague familiarity, an evanescent sense of déjà vu that she couldn't place. The Ragnarok pulsed once in its sheath, drawing her out of her daze.

The damned sword proved a paradox. It was comforting to know it belonged to her, but it was unsettling to know that she belonged to it. It's weight against her back was soothing, but its black tendrils of power weaving their webs across her mind and soul were suffocating.

Two arms snaked around her waist, and she jumped at their touch,

"Sorry," Locke apologized, tenderly kissing her neck. "Didn't mean to startle you. Are you all right?" As the blonde muttered something unintelligible, the thief noticed her tremble."Celes, you're shaking."

She shivered more as his warm breath brushed against her ear. "It's the Ragnarok."

Suddenly, Celes' head snapped up as her own words registered with her. The familiarity was now clear as day. A part of her wondered if she wasn't merely dreaming it again.

"What's wrong?"

"…Nothing," she lied, discreetly pulling out of his embrace. "You need something?"

Locke studied her for a moment, marveling at her mood swings. "We're all set to head out and, you know, save the world and stuff." He quirked a grin, but Celes' mind was obviously elsewhere. "You ready?"

"Yeah. Always."

((ooo))

"Anyone have an idea what we're up against?"

"Kefka is drawing on the power of the three Goddesses," Strago told them in answer to Edgar's query. "If we destroy the Statues, we may just have a chance at beating him."

Edgar noticed that his brother seemed to be brooding. "Something wrong?"

Sabin crossed his arms as he voiced his concern. "The Goddesses are the source of all magic, and their energy is what gives Espers life. So, if we destroy the Statues…"

Strago nodded solemnly. "All magic will no doubt disappear from the world, and the Espers with it."

"Then…"

Edgar finished for Sabin. "What'll happen to Terra?"

Save for Celes, Gogo, and Strago, they all looked to the green-haired mage.

Terra shrugged sadly. "What must be done will be done."

"But, Ter…" Edgar shook his head. "There has to be another way."

"There isn't."

"But…" the king's mind reeled. "How long have you known this?"

"A while."

While the Returners were quiet for a long moment, Relm's brows furrowed in deep thought. "Um, guys?"

Edgar looked at the girl. "Yes, Relm?"

"What about Celes?"

The woman in question gave a small bittersweet smile that went unnoticed.

Locke's stomach lurched in dread. "What about her?"

"Well… " Relm stared at the older blonde woman. "She's part Esper, too."

"Is that a fact?" Celes replied noncommittally.

The child didn't take her eyes off the knight. "I may be young, but I'm not stupid. It doesn't matter how artificial you claim it to be, Celes. It's still there. In me and Gramps, the Magi bloodline is so thinned it won't matter, but… Magic is a living part of you, and if it dies…"

Relm couldn't finish the thought, and everyone's gaze became fixed on Celes.

The blonde sighed to herself. "Kefka must be destroyed," she looked Terra straight in the eyes, "no matter what the cost."

The half Esper gave a supporting nod to her friend. Locke's heart sank, and the others were again speechless as they absorbed this new revelation. Both women took the time to put a little distance between them and the group, moving to the railing at the back of the _Falcon_.

"We're doing the right thing," Terra affirmed, sounding as though she was trying to convince herself. "They'll realize that someday."

Celes simply nodded, and slowly, Terra's eyes welled and her bottom lip quivered as her strength melted away. The others could only look on as the green-haired mage leaned her head on the taller woman's shoulder, her tears rolling down the blonde's armor.

"I don't want to die," she whispered.

Unseen by the others, Celes' vision blurred with her own unbidden tears. She opened her mouth and tried to admit that she didn't either, but her pride wouldn't let her. Instead, she said the only thing she could: nothing at all.

((ooo))

Two hours later, Kefka's Tower loomed in the distance. The Returners were by then focused on the necessary task of deciding on a plan of attack.

"We can infiltrate from several different locations," Edgar proposed. "It should make finding the Statues easier."

Celes nodded. "Agreed. Three Statues, three teams."

Strago spoke up. "I'm too old for this sort of thing. I'm afraid I'll have to sit this one out."

"As will I," Gogo followed. Celes looked at him in shock. "I have done my duty," he explained. "The rest I leave to you."

Reluctantly, the blonde nodded in acknowledgment. "If anyone else wishes to withdraw, speak now. No one here will hold it against you."

Relm was prodded by Strago. "Sorry, old man," the girl declined. "I'm in this fight."

No one else spoke. Celes crossed her arms and looked at the deck in thought as the general in her took charge. "We need to divide our strengths equally among the teams."

"Especially you three," Gogo said, gesturing towards her, Terra, and Relm.

"Yes," Strago agreed. "Trust your magic's intuition. It will lead you to the Statues."

"Alright then, Terra, Relm, and I will lead the three groups."

Relm beamed. "I get to lead?"

"In a manner of speaking." Celes deliberated for another moment, mentally weighing out her comrades' strengths. "Sabin, Cyan, and Mog will go with Relm. Edgar, Setzer, and Umaro, you three are with Terra. Locke, Shadow, and Gau, you're with me."

Everyone nodded in accord.

Gogo put a hand on Celes' shoulder as he addressed the group. "If you happen upon the last two dragons, the Seal of Crusader will be broken. I must warn you, though, that the Three Destroyers of Nations are a terrible force. Should they be summoned, they will show mercy to no one."

"We'll remember," Edgar promised.

As they waited for the airship to come within range of the tower, the warriors double-checked their weapons and supply packs. After she and Terra gave final words of advice to Relm, Celes stood out of the way of the others, again fidgeting with the blue cloth. She felt someone come up beside her.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked quietly.

She ignored the question. "Locke, whatever happened to your bandanna?"

The thief was caught off guard by the random query. "I, uh… After the whole end of the world deal, I…" He took a breath. "I tied it to a seagull, hoping it would find one of you guys and let you know I was alive." He smiled sheepishly. "Just a fool's hope, I guess."

Celes almost smiled. "I wouldn't say that."

Without meeting his eyes, Celes took his hand and placed the piece of cloth in his palm. She closed his fingers around it and, without a word, walked away, leaving Locke to stare dumbfounded at the bandanna.

((ooo))

With the actual task of defeating Kefka occupying most of their thoughts, the Returners were for the most part distracted from the possibly tragic consequences. Truthfully, setting out on their mission was all they could do to keep their spirits up.

Standing on the bow of the deck, Celes drew the Rune Blade from its sheath and held it before her, gazing upon her trusty partner of almost six years. Hearing Setzer's call of arrival at the eastern wing of the tower, she kissed the shaft and re-sheathed the sword.

"Cel."

The knight turned to her closest friend, and the two locked arms. "Let's end this." Terra gave a tiny smile and a nod to show more confidence than she actually felt, and Celes briefly put a hand to the younger woman's cheek. "See you up top."

The blonde hopped over the rail of the _Falcon_, not even bothering to use the rope ladder down to the fortress' surface. Locke, Shadow, and Gau quickly followed. Within minutes, Relm, Sabin, Cyan, and Mog landed on the western wing. Setzer then handed the airship over to Strago as he, Terra, Edgar, and Umaro dropped down on the northern end.

Team One

The first thing Relm noticed as she led her team onward was the bizarre construction of Kefka's stronghold. Half of it appeared to be composed of land mass, probably from the Floating Continent. Soon, though, the terrain turned industrial as they entered what looked like a section of an Imperial warehouse.

All too soon, the four came to an impassable gap between them and the way forward. Sabin noticed the controls for the moving platform appeared to be on the far end of the room near a set of stairs from an unknown origin.

Mog looked down into the deep chasm that delayed them. "Kupo."

Relm slapped her forehead. "Crap."

_Team Two_

_Terra looked around in confusion. Her team had just walked into a prison cell of the Imperial Palace. Edgar tried the cell door, but it was locked tight._

"_Interesting," Setzer mumbled._

_Umaro stomped over to the door, and Edgar promptly stepped out of the way. The yeti slammed his fists into the iron, and the gate flew off its hinges. The four walked out of the small unit into the extensive cell block but stopped when they heard a deep rumble. They turned to locate the source of the almost feline sound and saw two glowing red eyes that barely illuminated the massive form crouched in the shadows._

_The beast slowly rose and, for all its bulk, stalked gracefully towards the warriors. "I am Atma, born in the realm of magic and forgotten in the river of time."_

"_Didn't we already kill this thing?" Edgar whispered to Terra._

"_I've had an eternity to ponder the meaning of things," the beast continued. "Now I have an answer."_

_Setzer swallowed. "I don't suppose it would involve fluffy kittens…"_

_Tendrils of smoke rolled out of Atma's abundantly-toothed maw, and soon, tongues of blood-red flame licked their way out. His tail lashed about as he took a challenging stance, towering above the tiny humans._

_Setzer nodded. "Didn't think so."_

_Atma's fierce gaze never left the humans. "The only certainty in life is in death."_

"_How poetic," Edgar muttered as he swung his crossbow off his back._

**Team Three**

**Celes swept her gaze over the familiar setting of an Imperial Magitek Factory. "Did we go through a time portal or something?"**

"**Looks like," Locke agreed.**

"**Kefka molded this tower out of the Floating Isle _and_ Vector," Shadow mused. "Charming."**

**Celes strode down the catwalk and came to an intersection. She could see the path to the left led nowhere, so she led her group to the right. They quickly found themselves at a dead-end, with nowhere to go but back the way they came.**

"**Oh, come on," Celes nearly whined.**

**Locke glanced over the rail of the catwalk, where another level of the factory awaited exploration. "Down?"**

**  
"That's a three-story drop," Celes noted.**

"**You jumped out of the _Falcon_…"**

"**That was fifteen feet."**

"**And?"**

"**After you." **

"**No thanks."**

"**Uh huh." Celes turned around and started back. "Smartass."**

_Team Two_

"_Watch out!" Edgar warned._

_Setzer was nearly lacerated by Atma's claws, but Umaro grabbed the beast's tail and pulled him out of range of the gambler. Annoyed more than anything, Atma thrashed his muscular appendage, throwing the yeti into the wall. Edgar shot off a round of crossbow bolts, but only a few stuck into the beast's leathery hide. The others bounced off the spiky armor on his back. Before Edgar could dodge, Atma swung his head and impaled the king's side with a massive horn._

"_Edgar!" Terra cried, running to his side._

_Enraged, Umaro tore a cell door off it hinges and heaved it at the ancient fiend. Setzer hacked at Atma's legs with his sword and ducked behind his Force Shield when the beast sent a charge of electricity at him. Flames leapt from Terra's fingertips and danced over Atma's flesh, making the demon roar in pain._

_A towering wave conjured by the fiend crashed down on the four warriors._

Team One

Sabin and Relm stared each other in the eye. Neither blinked. Neither backed down. "One, two three, four, I declare a thumb war!"

Cyan crossed his arms. "Patience…'tis a virtue."

Relm didn't look up from her epic battle of thumbs. "Have you ever noticed how only old people say that when they're _losing_ their patience?"

Mog tapped his spear on the ground in boredom. "We're stuck here, and the others are all probably having a kupo old time!"

_Team Two_

_Atma released a storm of blazing energy that ripped through the cell block. By the time it dissipated, the four warriors were writhing on the ground in agony. The beast loomed over Terra, ready to finish her off with a snap of his teeth._

_In desperation, the mage pulled the Atma Weapon from her belt. The blade sprang to life, and she plunged it up into the beast's chest, With a oddly low yelp, Atma staggered back, his legs partially collapsing under him. As blood poured from his wound, the beast slunk back into the shadows. The four warriors took the opportunity to pick themselves up and escape out of the cell block._

_Each whispered a curative incantation to cleanse their wounds before pressing on. Terra trembled slightly when she found herself walking through a section of the Magitek Research Facility, and Edgar put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. At the bottom of q stairwell, the four saw Relm and her group sitting on the other side of a wide split in the floor._

"_Finally!" the child sighed in relief at seeing the others._

"_Ed!" Sabin shouted. "Hit the controls!"_

_Edgar made his way over to the panel and hit a button. The platform across the way shifted, allowing his brother's team passage to the other side._

Team One

Waving in thanks to Edgar, Sabin was the first to step onto the platform. Relm, Mog, and a hesitant Cyan followed suit. They were carried across the gap and made their way through the door, Relm shuddered as she and the other three entered what appeared to be a lab room from the M-Tek Research Facility, where broken containment tubes that once housed Espers lined the walls.

They came out of the industrial setting into a more earthy terrain. Almost immediately, they were hindered by an incomplete bridge.

Relm groaned. "Son of a—"

_Team Two_

_Setzer glanced back over his shoulder as if expecting something to jump him from behind. "Was it really wise to leave Atma alive?"_

"_He's not who we're here to fight," Edgar reminded._

"_Right." The gambler wiped his forehead in exhaustion. "Give me a dragon over that thing any day, though."_

"_Um…" Terra stopped abruptly._

_Edgar wasn't watching and bumped into the mage. "Sorry. What is it?" He followed her gaze, then turned to punch Setzer in the arm. "This is your fault. Again."_

"_What?" Setzer also looked up ahead and cursed not so quietly. "I take it back."_

_A dragon with scales shining like gold blocked their path. Without warning, a bolt of lightning crashed down between the warriors, throwing all four in opposing directions._

Team One

Relm paced back and forth in front of the half-bridge. "This sucks."

"I don't think I could even jump that far…" Sabin said regretfully, watching as Cyan gently clashed his sword against Mog's spear in a light sparring session.

The young girl growled in frustration and kicked a rock down into the inconveniently-placed gorge.

_Team Two_

_The Dragon of Thunder bellowed, and lightning erupted in the air._

_Umaro and Terra countered in unison by conjuring storms of ice and fire. Just as Setzer threw a few well-aimed cards, Edgar's chainsaw whirred to life. _

**Team Three**

**Finally, Celes and the others reached the lower level of the factory. Locke was whistling a melody that sounded suspiciously like the aria the former Imperial had sung, but when he noticed her glare, he quickly switched to a jauntier tune. Rolling her eyes, the blonde knight chose to ignore the thief's obnoxiousness.**

**When they passed under a catwalk, a large fiend with claws like pincers dropped down and blocked their path. In the blink of an eye, Shadow whipped two shuriken at it, slicing both arms off. Celes followed by flinging her knife at the creature, embedding it right between its eyes. The ninja and knight exchanged glances, then shrugged and continued on after Celes retrieved her dagger.**

**Locke let out a whistle. "Hell hath no fury…"**

**Gau ambled on ahead of the others. When he came to a rocky overhang, he jumped up and down, yipping happily at seeing Relm and the others below. In the midst of his antics, Gau happened to step on a hidden switch, causing the bridge below to extend fully.**

**Gau's three companions came up behind him and watched in amusement as Relm and Mog raced to the other side of the bridge. Sabin gave the other team a thumbs up as he and Cyan crossed, and the four disappeared into a different region.**

**Celes walked on, gesturing for the others to follow. Entering a new area, they immediately happened upon a bizarre creature slithering along the floor tiles.**

**Locke tilted his head. "What is _that_?"**

**A closer look revealed it to be the living carcass of a dragon. Bright green spines adorned its head, back, and tail, and a noxious fume was emitted from its mouth.**

"**Those spines are poisonous," Celes warned. "Don't get stung."**

**Locke cracked his knuckles. "Long distance fight, eh?"**

**Shadow grunted. "Can do."**

**The thief took out his boomerangs, and the ninja withdrew a stack of shuriken from his belt.**

**Celes put a hand on Gau's shoulder. "Magic only, okay?" she reminded gently. "Don't Rage."**

**The boy nodded. Shadow aimed one of his stars.**

Team One

Relm and her group stared up at the structure before them. There was an uncanny resemblance to the Imperial Palace. On either side of the aisle on which they stood, there as a iron gate separating them from another two walkways. Directly ahead of them was a large industrial-looking door.

Sabin tried to push it open. It was locked. "You've got to be kidding. This is absurd!"

Relm shook her head, a slightly crazed glint appearing in her eyes. "No, no, it's an omen. It's a higher power trying to tell me through dead-ends that we're all going to die. Oh gods!"

**Team Three**

**The enclosed space made keeping distance from the Dragon of Poison difficult. It's lumbering crawl could quickly turn into a lunging sprint with an unexpected burst of speed. More than once, one warrior or another was caught within a hazardous distance of its poisonous breath and stumbled back, gagging as they uttered prayers of remedy.**

**Finally, the projectiles of Locke and Shadow, combined with the ice and fire Celes and Gau churned out, took their toll. With the dragon's last breath, a blinding light flashed. When it dissipated, a shard of magicite lay on the ground before the warriors. Warily, Celes picked it up.**

"**Destroyers of Nations," Shadow whispered.**

"**What do we do with it?" Locke wondered, peering at the stone over Celes' shoulder.**

**Staring into the gem's oily black center that seemed to radiate evil, the knight reached an easy decision. Slowly, she raised her arm before hurling the magicite down at the ground. The stone shattered like glass into thousands of tiny shards.**

**Locke raised a brow. "That works."**

"**Crusader would've perished anyway," she reminded. "Let's go."**

Team One

"Kupo! It's Terra!"

Relm shot up from sitting on the ground and nearly threw herself at the gate barring entrance to the left aisle. "Save us? Please?"

A concerned look crossed Edgar's face. "What's wrong? Are you in danger?"

Relm sucked in a breath as if about to deliver tragic news. "The door won't open."

"And we're bored," Sabin followed.

"Again," Mog agreed, batting like a cat at the pom-pom above his head.

"Aye," Cyan nearly yawned.

Terra chuckled, shaking her head. The two teams heard a knocking on the bars across the way. They looked over to the aisle on the right side and saw Locke waving to them.

"Hello all," the thief called.

"It appears everyone still lives," Cyan noted.

Setzer grinned. "Always a good sign."

Celes took in the haggard appearance of Terra's group. "You guys look a little beat up."

"Atma," Terra explained.

"And the Thunder Dragon," Edgar added.

Setzer rubbed the back of his neck. "In rapid succession."

Locke winced. "Ouch."

"Yeah."

"The Seal of Crusader is broken," Celes told the other groups. "We killed the last dragon."

"And Crusader?" Terra inquired.

"Destroyed."

"…Good."

Relm sighed. "You guys are having all the fun…"

The two other teams exchanged glances that conveyed otherwise. Locke walked the length of the walkway and came to a dead end. There was an odd metal plate on the ground. In experimentation, he stepped on it. Nothing happened. Seeing this, Edgar walked down and found a similar plate on his side. The two men stepped on the plates at the same time, and a door on the central aisle slid open.

Almost giddy, Relm started for the new exit, but when Locke and Edgar stepped off the switches, the door closed again. They cringed when the girl swore loudly. Sheepishly, the thief and king pressed the switches and remained where they were. Relm ran through the door as soon as it reopened, followed by Sabin, Cyan, and Mog.

Another switch straight ahead did nothing when pressed. There was a path leading left or right, and on impulse, Relm chose to go left. As soon as all four Returners had crossed an unseen line, a gate slammed down behind them, preventing them from backtracking. Following the hall, they came out a door and found themselves directly above Edgar and the other three.

A mechanical arm holding a large stone block hung from the balcony with a control panel nearby.

"Ed!" Sabin called. "Move!"

When his brother was out of the way, Sabin pushed a button on the keypad, and the stone block was lowered onto the switch below. The gate separating Terra's team from the center aisle lifted.

_Team Two_

_Terra led her group up the same way Relm had gone until she was forced to turn right, and another gate slammed down behind them. Finding the same mechanism at the end of the corridor, Edgar repeated the process his brother had done, opening the way for Celes' team._

**Team Three **

**Celes strode down the center aisle and came to the switch in the next room. Terra and Relm came back in on their respective sides, and all three women stepped on the plates. A stone wall slid down and disappeared into the floor in front of Celes, and a bridge extended behind her, both opening a new path and cutting off the old. Without being asked, Locke slinked along the bridge and found himself on a balcony above the center aisle. There was nothing obviously out of place at first glance.**

**On a hunch, the treasure hunter ran his hands along the stones of the terrace and eventually noticed a particular block that wiggled. He pushed it, and the sound of moving stone rewarded him. Backtracking to Celes, Shadow and Gau, he nodded to Terra and Relm.**

"**The way should be open for you guys again."**

"**We're close," Terra breathed. "I can feel them…"**

**Celes and Relm both nodded in agreement. The power of the Statues was like a homing beacon, growing stronger with every step they took.**

**While the others turned back to find a new set of stairs on either side, Celes and her team continued forward. Standing steadfastly in their path was a behemoth-sized machine looking like a compact version of an M-Tek Armor.**

**Celes tilted her head in recognition of the massive but squat sentry robot. "Guardian? Great."**

**Locke looked at her. "You know this thing?"**

"**Imperial General."**

"**Oh. Right. So…"**

"**Remember the Tunnel Armor?"**

"**Yeah."**

"**Like that…only…with Tek Missiles and Megaton cannons," she said quickly, "but…"**

"**Go for the sensor eye?" the thief guessed after a heavy sigh.**

**The sensor in question, unnoticed by the warriors, swiveled around and focused on the four.**

**Celes awkwardly ran hand through her hair. "Um…sure."**

**Shadow crossed him arms. "Your confidence is overwhelming."**

"**Guardian is…it's an Elite sentry unit. It was only in the test phase back when I was a general, but…it's supposedly indestructible."**

"**Wonderful."**

**  
"It looks a little rundown, though," she noted.**

**Without warning, a rotary chamber on one of Guardian's arms spun and released a Tek Missile. Shadow and Locke leapt to one side, and Celes pushed Gau to the other. The rocket detonated behind them, collapsing the doorway and cutting off any escape.**

"**Intruder alert," a synthetic feminine voice chimed. "Lethal countermeasures activated."**

**Locke coughed on the smoke and debris. "Well, _that_ part seems to work just _fine_."**

TeamsOne_ and Two_

On either side of the ensuing battle, separated only by steel walls, Terra and Relm's teams followed the Imperial-esque corridors. Both stopped and listened, however, when they heard shouts followed by explosions coming from where they knew Celes and the others to be. A high pitched hum reminded Terra of a M-Tek Armor preparing to fire its cannons. The walls shook from the blasts, and dust floated down from the ceiling.

The two groups of four exchanged worried glances with their respective team members.

**Team Three**

"**Hurry up, Cel!"**

**From her position of crouching behind Guardian, Celes bit her tongue to keep from snapping at the thief. At some point, the knight had worked her way behind the sentry robot and found its operation console. Guardian had been keeping Locke, Shadow, and Gau on the run with its constant Tek Missile launch. As the sentry was resistant to magic and regular weaponry, the three men could do little but draw its attention away from their female companion. **

**After only a couple minutes, Guardian began revving up its Megaton cannon along with the rocket assault, and somehow, Celes couldn't remember the override code. Now she worked desperately to manually countermand its attack program.**

"**I can remember every name, face, and rank of every man that ever served under me," she muttered bitterly, "every access code to every part of Vector's most secret laboratories, and every encryption code to the most protected and highly classified computer systems in the world, but I can't remember one standard override code."**

"**Ten seconds until Megaton cannon preparation complete," the sentry announced neutrally.**

**Celes cursed under her breath as she worked to splice several wires of Guardian's console together.**

"**Five seconds until Megaton cannon preparation complete." **

**The former Imperial finished splicing the wires and replaced them back into Guardian's core. Entering a different code, Celes waited anxiously for the robot's response.**

"**Override complete. Enter new command now." With a sigh of relief, Celes typed in the order to shut down. "Running program 'Shut Down' now."**

**With a hiss of steam, the mechanized sentry lowered its squat body, and the red light of the sensor eye went out. The four warriors stood and brushed themselves off.**

"**Your timing is much appreciated," Shadow remarked as he adjusted his mask.**

"**Definitely," Locke agreed.**

**Celes was about to respond, but she abruptly looked towards the exit stairway, tilting her head to the side as if listening closely to something.**

"**What is it?"**

**The woman distractedly met Locke's gaze, but instead of answering, she turned on her heel and walked up the stairs. Shrugging in confusion to the ninja and wild child, the thief followed after her.**

**When the three men caught up with Celes, they found her standing entranced in front of an imposing woman encased in stone. The figure's armor and helm were wreathed in solidified flame, and a devilish scythe rested chained to her hand. Her once divine wings stretched towards the heavens, while her torso melted into a hellish demon that lay poised on the ground.**

_Team Two_

_Terra was enraptured by the heavenly form that would seem to herald the coming of salvation, were it not for the monstrosity on which she stood. The skull of a wicked being, with hair made of motionless snakes, glared at the half Esper through narrowed eyes._

Team One

Relm stared up in morbid fascination at the grossly deformed Statue. The six-armed deity sat atop a pillar of bony corpses where beady yellow eyes peeked out from within the cartilage. Her bat-like wings and fiendish horns gave her a satanic appearance.

Team One, Two, and Three

Enthralled, all three women reached out and rested their palms on the smooth stone of the Statues, closing their eyes as a humbling power washed over them. In place of contentment, though, each was alarmed by the tainted energy the Goddesses exuded. Behind the spiral of darkness in the once pure light, Celes, Terra, and Relm heard a faint whisper in their minds.

_Free us…_

Though separated from each other, isolated to their own corner of the tower, the three mages spoke in unison.

"Doom…"

"_Goddess…"_

"**Poltergeist…"**

"She must be purified."

"_She must be sanctified."_

"**She must be revivified."**

The power of the three mages and three Goddesses mingled, and beneath the humans' fingertips, the stone deities began to pulse with glowing light. Sabin felt a chill radiating from the Statue and suggested Relm step back from it.

_Edgar cautiously moved to Terra's side. The field of static electricity surrounding the mage and Statue made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end._

**Locke put a hand on Celes' shoulder. He recoiled when his fingers were burned by the Statue's blistering-hot energy. **

The air around the Goddesses shimmered, and when the three women finally dropped their hands and backed away, the mythical deities defied their stone prisons and came to life. Confident their teammates were behind them, Relm, Terra, and Celes drew their weapons.

Holding her dirk away from her, Relm stared at it until a mystic glow surrounded it. As if by the spark of flint, tongues of fire that would sear through Doom's frost trailed along the blade, completely engulfing it.

**A sphere of cold energy surrounded Celes' sword-holding hand. From the hilt of the Rune Blade, a sheet of ice skated across the steel and coated it fully, ready to temper Poltergeist's blaze.**

_With a flash of light, the cerulean blade of the Atma Weapon became liquid flame to douse Goddess' lightning._

Six arms waved about, throwing spears of ice at Relm and the others. Relm countered by sending balls of flame at the misshapen Statue. Sabin and Cyan unleashed powerful attacks of Blitz, claws, and katanas, and Mog danced up a storm of elf fires and other crafts learned in his travels. The four warriors fought against the bitter cold of the continual glacial blizzards called by Doom.

**Everything in a twenty yard radius was charred and sizzling by the fiery hell Poltergeist had created. Celes attempted to match the god's inferno with her snowstorms as Locke, Shadow, and Gau were relentless in their rapid attacks. The deity's scythe and fiend's claws were effortlessly evaded by the four agile warriors, but her intense gales of fire and wind were not so easily avoided. A measure of telekinesis was demonstrated as Poltergeist sent shrapnel and other debris flying at the four with no more than a thought.**

_Lightning struck the ground and serpents struck overhead in an unremitting onslaught. Terra and Setzer let loose a series of incantations that spanned their entire array of magic. Edgar made use of his chainsaw against the head of writhing snakes, and Umaro utilized his brute strength to hurl anything within reach at Goddess._

Drawing too close, Relm was swiftly seized by one of Doom's hands.

**Distracted by casting an icy assault, Celes was knocked onto her back with a swiping paw of Poltergeist's lower half.**

_Terra turned too late, and one of Goddess' serpents coiled its body around her, lifting her into the air._

**Towering over the knight, Poltergeist lifted her scythe high into the air and cleaved it down. Celes raised her Rune Blade above her supine body, and the ice-covered sword barely halted the descending axe. The fiendish lower half of the deity snapped its jaws at the knight's feet as she tried desperately to push herself away. Forsaking their weapons, Locke, Shadow and Gau threw out their hands and conjured a tempest of ice that drove the Statue back.**

Relm struggled against the crushing force of Doom's grip while the deity lifted her arms up to exhale her icy breath on the young Magi. Pushing aside her terror, Relm pulled free her dirk-holding hand and plunged the fiery weapon into Doom's eye.

_Terra called on her magic, and fire erupted at the base of the snake's body. The serpent released her, dropping the mage in front of Goddess. With a loud cry, she arced the Atma Weapon and severed the deity's head from her body._

**Rising from the ground amidst the blizzard, Celes drew her Rune Blade back and charged forward. A mighty swing cleaved Poltergeist through the shoulder, across the chest, and down to the waist.**

Defeated, the three Statues splintered into a pile of rubble. Relm, Terra, and Celes all fell to their knees as a shockwave of the Goddesses' dissipating power coursed through them.

**Locke rushed over to the blonde knight and dropped to his knees behind her. Wrapping his arms around her shoulders, the thief held Celes against his chest, fearful of what would happen next.**

Relm looked up at the concerned faces around her. Giving Sabin, Cyan, and Mog a thumbs up, she allowed the martial artist to lift her from the ground.

_Terra stared at the heap of debris that used to be Goddess. When a hand appeared in front of her, she met Edgar's gaze. Terra placed her hand in his, and the king pulled the half Esper to her feet._

**Shadow and Gau watched intently as Celes remained slumped against Locke's chest. Finally, she stirred, and the thief breathed a sigh of relief. When Shadow offered her his hand, Celes allowed the ninja to help her stand while Locke leapt to his feet.**

Beyond the remains of the Statues, a portal awaited each team.

((ooo))

Stepping into the force fields, the Returners found themselves teleported up to a new level. Terra gave a quick hug to Celes. Before the knight knew what hit her, a small blonde-haired blur darted over and jumped on her, her small arms latching around the older woman's neck.

"Relm, can't breathe."

Celes gently set the young girl on the ground, and Relm immediately clung to Terra's waist.

"Hello to you too, Relm."

"You're both all right!" the child squealed.

The two older women shared a bittersweet smile. It wasn't over yet.

Edgar looked at the ground. "The Goddesses are defeated, yet magic still lives."

"It's Kefka," Terra said, looking to Celes for confirmation. "Everything's connected to him now…"

The blonde knight nodded. Everyone exchanged glances, communicating a silent consensus. Banding together, twelve warriors entered a clearing at the tower's summit.

"Why have you come here," a voice echoed, "when only death awaits you?"

"We were in the area," Setzer answered mockingly. "Thought we'd drop in and say hello."

"It ends here, Kefka," Terra declared firmly, ignoring the gambler's attempt at humor.

"You wish to fight me?" Their was no apparent source to the voice. "For what purpose? Only death can come of life."

"That's not true!" the half Esper denied. "There's a whole other side to life filled with joy and peace and—"

"Love?" he finished patronizingly.

"Yes."

Kefka barked out a laugh. "You're all pathetic!"

Relm shouted in a very unladylike fashion, "OH YEAH? COME SAY THAT TO OUR FACE, YOU BIG WEENIE!"

A snicker surrounded them. "That's one spunky little girl you have with you." There was a pause. "I'm going to eat her."

Relm drew back. "Ew."

"Come on, Kefka, show yourself!" Edgar challenged.

With another chuckle, the jester stepped out of the shadows. "Have it your way." Before their very eyes, Kefka divided and multiplied into ten identical entities.

Relm's eyes went wide. "Oh crap."

The warriors all drew their weapons as the ten clowns began to dance mocking circles around them. Something, however, seemed off.

"Everyone be quiet," Celes ordered.

"But Celes—" Locke started.

"Just _wait_."

Celes closed her eyes, letting her other senses take over. Ignoring the warnings of the others when a Kefka came up behind her, she let him strike. The sword passed through her without injury.

She opened her eyes. "They're shadows."

"They can't hurt us?" Terra wondered.

"No…" Celes watched warily as one of the clones danced near Terra. When the jester thrust his sword, the knight swung her blade down on his. Following the loud _clang_ of steel on steel, the blonde threw a fist into his jaw. "But the real one can."

The real Kefka grinned evilly as he stepped back into the confusing throng of look-alikes. Sabin and Cyan started slashing at the shadows in hope of hitting the true jester, but they all leapt out of range, cackling madly.

Celes quickly grew annoyed and grasped her pendant. "No one move. It's about to get a little chilly." She drove her Rune Blade into the ground and, with years of experience and pent up anger fueling her, invoked the most formidable conjuration of ice known to the magical realm. "Glacies absolutus!"

In a peripheral ring of atmosphere surrounding the warriors, the temperature plummeted so rapidly and so extremely that air itself ceased its continual circulation and turned to ice. Eleven of the twelve warriors, Umaro included, shivered uncontrollably in the sudden blast of arctic freeze, exhaling billowing puffs of breath.

Celes, remarkably unaffected by the unearthly cold, watched as nine Kefka's continued their ludicrous dance while one stood immobile, encased in the normally deadly prison. Teeth chattering, the others gawked in awe as the Magitek Knight pulled her sword out of the ground and plunged it through the frozen wall. The ring of ice shattered, causing a visible ripple in the air where it was once again allowed to drift freely, and the temperature returned to normal.

Kefka, somehow unharmed by the lethal chill, stared down at the sword sticking out of his chest.

Calmly, he pulled the blade out and dropped it to the ground.

_Author's note: The hilltop scene in Thamasa was another allusion to Celes' dream of chapter 19. For no particular reason, the second tune Locke was whistling was the theme from Indiana Jones. Both the dead-end omen of Relm's and the spunky girl comment are adapted from _Buffy_. "Glacies absolutus" is "Absolute ice," the equivalent of "Absolute Zero."_

_Battle sequences were cut short, yes, but I'm saving my strength for the important ones coming up, which, by the way, may take a while to get finished. Here's next chapter's teaser:_

_Pink flames engulfing Terra and dying down to reveal a feral-looking creature. _

_Celes throwing off her cloak and exposing glowing runes on her Genji Armor._


	27. Rising Angels

_Disclaimer: (sits in a corner, rocking back and forth) I don't own it. I don't own it. I don't own it._

_We've now entered the final three chapters! Sorry it took so long, but I these darn fight scenes are a pain. The reviews I've gotten are much appreciated, as always, and Lenna the Fallen One—I put a line in here just for you :)_

Chapter Twenty-seven: Rising Angels

Horrified by her rival's apparent imperviousness, Celes took a step back. Kefka let out a howl of laughter.

"You honestly didn't think it'd be _that_ easy, did you?" he taunted.

Sabin came up beside Celes, both hands brandishing a set of claws. "Not too worried. We're just getting warmed up."

Cyan drew his katana and strode to the blonde's other side. "Thou wilt die today, for together we stand."

Kefka put a hand to his chest in mock fear. "Oh no… Gods, be merciful, they're going to _scold_ me to death me with their _friendship_!" He barked out another laugh. "You sound like a chapter from a self-help booklet!"

After a short deliberation, Locke started to take a step forward, but a hand on his shoulder held him back. Edgar shook his head at the thief and point up at a rock formation off to one side. Barely distinguishable from the shadows, Locke could make out the silhouette of their ninja companion scaling up the rocky cliff.

Without warning, Shadow leapt off and landed nimbly on all fours directly in front of Kefka as he grasped the hilt of the Rune Blade. Flinging the sword over to Celes, the ninja rolled out from under the jester and to his feet, quickly withdrawing two dirks from within his black garb. Celes caught her blade and immediately dashed forward and slashed at Kefka. Sabin, Cyan, and Shadow soon followed.

The four warriors timed their strikes perfectly, creating a seamless flow of attacks while the others stood back, waiting anxiously as their comrades took on the jester. They couldn't risk any more than four fighting at the same time.

The four gradually took to lengthier bouts of individual assaults, facing Kefka one on one until knocked aside and another stepped in. The blitz master was a fury of claws, falling back on the mystical energies of his teachings only when his foe presented an opening. Though the jester suffered countless blows from Sabin's pummeling, he did not weaken.

The Doman retainer carved intricate patterns through the air with his katana, striking in a sinuous dance of precision and skill. Kefka, in turn, weaved in and out of Cyan's range, twisting his body in near impossible ways and somehow escaping the cold steel by a hair's breadth.

The ninja used is speed and agility to try to throw the Imperial off balance. His dirks struck quick as serpents and the aim of his shuriken was true. Kefka, however, treated Shadow's landed blows as no more than an itch and merely batted the stars away with his sword.

The Magitek Knight, faster than even the ninja, forced Kefka to parry her sword. Tight arcs and quick ripostes tested each other's reflexes, and each clash brought about a shower of sparks, both of fire and frost. Elemental conjurations were traded, neither appearing to affect the other.

Eventually, Kefka either grew tired or more likely bored and raised his arms into the air. From the epicenter between his hands, a shockwave of energy erupted in rapidly growing diameter, slamming into the warriors and threw them back. From the distant corners of the tower, the shards and rubble and dust that was once the Goddesses rose up, swirled into a pillar, and coalesced to create a single monstrosity.

The first tier was the extremely muscular titan that supported the rest of the Column on his back, reminding the warriors of Poltergeist's hellhound. A crimson crystal adorned his head, and large spines projected from his back. A living vine rose up into the second tier, housing tortured men in chains that were guarded by the three heads of Cerberus. The living vine continued up to the third and final tier on which Kefka lounged in flowing robes as if it were his throne to the world. Like a trophy, or perhaps a perverted guardian angel, the head of Goddess hovered just above and behind him.

The twelve Returners gazed up at the structure, each cursing its enormity that rivaled Fantatics' Tower. Armed with larger weapons than the others, Celes, Edgar, Cyan, and Mog stepped up to the titan. Ducking the swipes of his burly arms, the four slashed into his torso with their swords and spears until a powerful quake knocked them off their feet when the titan pounded his fists into the ground. Nodding to each other, Edgar and Cyan began a daring climb up the torso to the shoulders of the giant. The king revved up his chainsaw, and the two men hacked mercilessly into the arms to sever them.

Seeing the crystal glow brighter, Celes motioned to Mog for his spear. After the moogle handed her the javelin, the knight hoisted it onto her shoulder, drew back, and hurled it through the air. The lance pierced the crystal dead center, shattering it. Bellowing a mighty roar, the titan sent shockwaves of energy into the knight and moogle.

Triumphant shouts declared Edgar and Cyan's success in dismembering the giant. Taking a moment to throw Mog's lance back down to him, the two men made short work of the vine running between the first and second tiers. The titan disintegrated, and Kefka writhed on his throne in pain.

With the second tier within reach, Sabin, Locke, Shadow readied their array of weapons while Umaro pounded the ground with his fists. When Cerberus snarled menacingly, steaming geysers from the pitfalls of Hell opened under the Returners' feet, and walls of flame leapt into the air. The Blizzard Orb around Umaro's neck shined brightly as he summoned a snowstorm to quell the blazing inferno.

The three warriors, dodging the watchdog's snapping teeth, hacked and slashed at the chained men to clear a path to the vine. The imprisoned ones threw their own magic at the warriors, and a wave of confusion washed over Locke. A shadow descended over him, and the thief looked up into the gaping maw of one of Cerberus' heads. The fog in his head hindered any move to escape as the teeth began to close around him. When the teeth unexpectedly began to recede, Locke glanced to either side to see Sabin and Umaro grasping the upper and lower jaws, wrenching them apart until a crack was heard. A small healing incantation from Shadow cleared the cobwebs out of his mind, and the thief gave them all a grateful nod.

The remaining two heads of the dog were disposed of in a similar manner, and the men in chains were eliminated. Sabin dashed forward at the Column and buried his claws deep inside the vine. He let his momentum carry him off the ground as he swung his body around the cartilaginous pillar, slicing almost all the way through. A couple sharp throws of shuriken from Shadow severed the vine completely. Kefka screamed, and the final tier dropped to the ground.

Not wasting any time, Terra and Relm showered Kefka with magic while Setzer and Gau carried out physical assaults. All four stopped when they found their attacks blocked by a shimmering barrier surrounding the jester. With a casual wave of his hand, Kefka sent a barrage of wind, fire, and gravity forces down on the four warriors. Terra and Relm countered in vain, their magic not strong enough to break through the mystical barrier.

On a hunch, Setzer threw a trio of cards at the head of Goddess, scoring a direct hit. Though the bizarre power of Rage, Gau donned the strength of a Gigas and landed several harsh blows to the angelic face. In retaliation, Kefka called on another gravitational pull to pin the warriors to the ground. Summoning up the last ounce of her strength against the jester's magic, Terra lifted a hand and chanted. A cyclone of fire enveloped Goddess, and the divinity's shriek pierced through the air. The final tier turned to dust.

Kefka, the last of his defenses destroyed and his connection to the Goddesses severed, writhed and thrashed on the ground. Then, all of a sudden, he became still. Three spheres of light—red, blue, and yellow—rose from the Column's remains and hovered over Kefka's still form. One by one, the spheres descended down and, like water, molded themselves across the jester and seeped into his very being. Kefka's eyes snapped open, glowing strangely with the essences of the Goddesses as he slowly rose. Behind him, three sets of wings spread out and reached towards the heavens.

Celes bowed her head, fighting the urge to sink to her knees in despair. Kefka was a god.

Relm placed a hand on the despondent knight's arm. "We can't give up yet."

The older blonde met the child's determined gaze but said nothing. Save for the three women, the Returners once again readied their weapons. This time, there would be no waiting. Forming a ring around the deity, the men, moogle, and yeti commenced a barrage of assaults. Each utilized his own individual skills: Edgar with his tools, Sabin with his mastery of Blitz, Cyan with his art of katana, Locke with his agility and speed, Shadow and Setzer with their throwing accuracy, Mog and Gau with the mysteries of Dance and Rage, and Umaro with his brute strength.

Celes tore her eyes from the melee and watched as Terra attempted an incantation of solar energy. Beads of sweat appeared on the half Esper's forehead as her face contorted in strained concentration. The younger woman's shoulders slumped when nothing happened. Celes glanced once at Kefka and the others before turning her gaze back to her friend.

Terra glanced down when she felt Celes' hand brush against hers, then looked questioningly into the blonde's eyes. The knight's fingers snaked through hers, and Terra saw her friend's intention clearly written in her expression. With a small nod, the two pressed their palms together and felt a surge of power run through their linked hands. Both whipped their heads around towards Kefka as a flare of solar energy erupted in the air around him.

The deity screeched his pain, and the other warriors took the opportunity to land several heavy blows.

Relm joined hands with Terra and Celes, and soon the three were invoking the wrath of the celestial realm. Meteors rained down from the heavens, crashing into the tower's summit with potent force. To the mages' horror, though, the flaming rocks seemed only to shatter on contact with Kefka.

The deity, after casually brushing debris from his shoulders, called upon his own power. As Kefka chanted, the sky turned to scarlet hue and the air began to shimmer and undulate. Though his muttering was mostly unintelligible, both Terra and Celes managed to pick out a single word: Merton.

"Everyone take cover!" Terra shouted.

In the midst of everyone's scrambling, the half Esper took in one horrifying sight: Celes wasn't moving. Instead, the knight stood dead center of the terrace, her Rune Blade aimed at Kefka.

"CELES, NO!"

A hurricane-force wind picked up, swirling around Kefka and quickly gaining scorching intensity. The infernal tempest abandoned the jester, and the air seemed to scream with the gale's force as it hurtled towards the warriors. First slamming into an invisible wall created by the Rune Blade's power (and notably knocking Celes back a couple feet), the energy formed a whirlwind around the knight, battling against her natural icy barrier as well as the Rune Blade's pull.

"Celes, stop!" Terra pleaded, braving the firestorm. "The energy's too much!"

Indeed, the Rune Knight soon started to wilt under the mounting pressure of Kefka's spell. Spiraling tongues of fiery energy lashed out at the others, escaping the suction of Celes' sword. Inevitably, the knight fell to her knees, blood pooling in her lungs and flowing out of her nose and ears. With Celes unable to contend with the power of the Goddesses, the inferno was unleashed unto the warriors. No shield nor rocky outcropping could shelter them against the raging heat, and only Terra was left standing, protected by the very hellfire that spawned her.

Watching as her friends writhed on the ground in searing agony, the half Esper sensed a feral presence bubble to the surface of her consciousness. As she fell to all fours, Terra shook with a fury she never knew existed. Control shattered, compassion evaporated, and the beast within was summoned forth. A mane of pink flames erupted all over her body, consuming any remnant of her humanity. Finally pushing herself back to her feet, she lifted her gaze to meet Kefka's, and within her once soft jade eyes burned a deep hatred engulfed by oily black depths.

With an ear-splitting shriek, the half Esper dashed forward with inhuman speed, slashing viciously at Kefka's flesh with her razor-sharp talons. The demigod seemed more startled than harmed, though, as he simply watched Terra take off into the air.

A tidal wave of solid flame rose into the air and crashed down on the deity as the half Esper screeched by overhead. The wind howled, and the embers scattered about the terrace flared once again as they were swept into the ferocious current. The whirlwind ignited into a fiery hurricane that raged around Kefka and grew more devastating with every pass Terra made.

Whispering a curative prayer, Celes finally found the strength to expel a large portion of the energy she absorbed and let the powerful healing of her magic cleanse her body and mind of her wounds. She rose just in time to see Kefka throw a stream of green and black electricity into the half Esper, sending her careening into a rock formation before falling limp to the ground and instantly reverting back to her human form.

The clownish deity laughed like mad until he noticed that his rival was drawing her sword. "You just don't give up, do you?"

Celes shrugged, forcing a bravado she didn't really feel. "What can I say? I'm not good at failure."

"No, you're not," Kefka agreed civilly. "It's kind of pesky."

Foregoing further banter, Celes attacked. Still trying to recover from the mind-numbing burns they had suffered, the Returners could only watch as the two former generals engaged in an all-too familiar confrontation. Glumly, they noted that Celes' normal vigor was absent.

Kefka, with his wings folded protectively against his back, seemed only to match his opponent's attacks, never making an effort to surpass them. In a vain attempt to cut through Kefka's defenses, Celes deliberately locked the hilt of her sword against his and shoved it to the side. The jester's strength, however, had been bolstered by the Goddesses, and his grip didn't yield.

The deity took advantage of their linked swords and muttered a couple words under his breath. A tongue of fire slithered from his blade to hers, after which it darted down to the knight's hand. Celes instinctively recoiled her arm, dropping the Rune Blade in the process. Now unarmed, the knight threw several punches, all easily blocked by Kefka. As the woman's strength waned, the jester caught one of her wrists and clenched the hilt of his sword against her other hand.

The two wrestled against each other for a brief moment until Kefka abruptly let go of Celes, wearing a look of disappointment.

"You know, is it just me, Celes, or is your heart not in this?"

"No, it's just you."

With a burst of strength, Celes grabbed Kefka's arm, twisted her body around, and stabbed his sword backwards into his stomach. A look of nausea plagued the jester's face, but it soon faded. Without warning, Kefka wrenched the sword out of his abdomen and thrust it back into the woman beside him.

As the Returners cried out to her, Celes fell to her knees, holding the pommel of the blade and gasping for breath. Surprisingly, her eyebrows drew together in confusion, and Kefka's smirk vanished as both he and Celes looked down at the sword. No blood was spilled. The blonde knight pulled the sword away and found the blade bent, compressed, and crushed all the way to the hilt.

In shock, Kefka took a step backwards. "Wha…! How…?"

Celes, completely unharmed and somewhat stunned herself, took a moment to recuperate before standing and throwing off her cloak in a dramatic sweeping of her arms. The hidden runes of her armor pulsated eerily as she purposefully drew the Ragnarok from its sheathe on her back. The sinister onyx blade glinted wickedly in the discolored sunlight as she held it before her.

Kefka's arrogance seemed to make a hasty retreat at the sight of the accursed sword and blessed armor. "The armor of Genji?" he gasped. "That's not possible. No mere mortal could tap the strength of that armor!"

"No mere mortal…" Celes mused quietly.

She stared back at him and took a deep breath. Now was the time. All that she had denied her entire life could remain in the shadows no more.

She raised her voice. "I am the Heir of Genji, the last of his line and his father before him."

"Odin…?" Kefka whispered in recognition. Then, he spat out, "You don't think this thinned and weakened bloodline could possibly be anything against me."

The deity threw out his hand, sending a powerful burst of lightning at the warrior.

_FLASH_

_Genji, son of Esper and human, knelt before his father._

"_I have taught thee the ways of Rune and imparted upon thee the will of the Three Divine Ones. Thou art favored by the Goddesses. To honor this love bestowed upon thee, be brave and upright. In the face of thine enemies, be without fear and speak the truth, always, even if it leads to thy doom. Safeguard the helpless and do no evil. This is thy oath." Odin backhanded his son across the cheek. "And that is so thou rememberest it."_

_When his surprise faded, Genji looked upon his father with pride. Odin extended the hilt of the Einlanzer towards the young man._

"_Rise, my son, Rise a Knight of Rune."_

_FLASH_

Celes felt a fresh surge of power coursing through her. In a strange calm, she reached out towards Kefka's attack, and the energy collected in a sphere in the palm of her hand. She closed her fingers around the sphere, and it disappeared. Light from the absorption flashed briefly in her eyes.

Kefka's stared slack-jawed.

Almost serenely, Celes continued. "Though Gestahl had the blood of Rune infused into my veins, already the same blood that flowed through Genji, his father, and his son, flowed through me. So you see, I am no 'mere mortal.'"

Armed with the Ragnarok, the now conquered Runic ability, and the embracing of birthright, Celes' confidence was restored, and the tides had turned.

The Rune Knight channeled the energy Kefka had fed her, conjuring a sacred power wielded by the holy knights of yore. A halo of white light surrounded the jester, and the light separated into a dozen pearly spheres. As one, the opalescent orbs emitted photon beams that converged on Kefka from all sides, lancing through the deity. His screamed pierced the still air, and the Returners held their breath.

For the first time since becoming a god, the jester had shown some vulnerability.

Recovering quickly, however, Kefka readied his sword and rushed angrily at Celes. Without hesitation, the Rune Knight leapt forward to meet him, planting both feet on his chest and pushing off in back flip. As Kefka stumbled back, he made the mistake of momentarily extending his wings to keep his balance. Seizing the opportunity, Celes spun a complete circle, keeping both hands on the Ragnarok as she raised it into a powerful swipe. Kefka yelped in surprise at seeing two of his wings laying on the ground. The truly shocking sight, however, was the blood gushing from the stumps that remained.

First rearing back with the Ragnarok, Celes charged forward. Just as she passed by, she slashed down and sliced through the last wing on the demigod's right side. Fully exploiting her momentum, she stepped into a pivot that turned her to face Kefka's back as she swung her sword over her head and downward, severing the left trio of wings in one fell swoop.

Kefka stared dumbly at his dismembered wings, and Celes called over her shoulder to Terra.

"The Atma Weapon! Now!"

The half Esper clambered to her feet. With all her strength, Terra hurled the Atma Weapon at Kefka, its blade still retracted. The dagger struck him square in the chest, giving the madman a pained look of shock. Keeping her fist outstretched, the mage closed her eyes in concentration. Kefka looked down as the hilt protruding from his torso began to quiver.

Exercising surprising control over the weapon, Terra extended her fingers, and the glowing blade of Atma sprung to its full length with a sickening squish through Kefka's back. The godlike abomination fell to his knees, struggling to breathe.

Staggering from her own exhaustion, Celes felt a new power bubble to the surface of her consciousness. She held the Ragnarok up and ran her free hand over the obsidian surface.

"Say hello to Gestahl for me."

Fueled by what could only be called instinct, Celes spun a complete rotation, flinging the blade of sin at her nemesis. The sword appeared a lethal spinning disk as it struck Kefka unremittingly, spiraling around him and leaving countless gashes all over his body. Amidst the whirlwind of deadly arcs, the Ragnarok released its hidden fury, conjuring an ever-growing sphere of kaleidoscopic nuclear energy in the ultimate spell, more destructive than a thousand meteors.

The blinding light, now engulfing the entire area, dissipated with a thunderous crash, and the Ragnarok returned to its master's awaiting hand. No sign of the rampant jester was seen. Celes collapsed to her knees, utterly drained. Locke was at her side in an instant, Terra soon following.

"Are you all right?" the thief asked anxiously, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear.

Celes looked down at the Ragnarok in her hand. For a split second, she thought she saw a flash of red streak across the black steel. How close she had come to calling upon its dormant corrupting power.

Nodding wearily, she gratefully downed the elixir Terra gave her and proceeded to rub her temples in a vain attempt to quell the oncoming headache. Relm sat down next to the older blonde and stared at her.

Celes tried to ignore the girl, but soon gave up. "What?"

"I knew it."

"Knew what?"

"I knew you weren't telling us something."

"Good for you."

"Why didn't you?"

"You didn't need to know."

Terra joined in Relm's obvious awe. "But Celes…you…you're the Heir of Genji! A descendant of Odin himself!"

"So?"

"That's huge!"

"This is why I didn't tell you," Celes groaned. "I knew you'd make a big deal out of it."

"But it _is_ a big deal, Cel."

Edgar cleared his throat. "And, for those of us not as well versed in mystical myths and legends…?"

Celes took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. "You know that Genji was half human, half Esper."

"Yeah?"

"Well, Genji was also the original Rune Knight."

"Uh huh." The woman raised a brow, and Edgar just stared at her in confusion. Then, "Oh."

"You're part Esper and a true Rune Knight," Sabin deduced for his brother. "It's not just a product of Gestahl's experimentation."

"Through my father's blood, yes."

Cyan crossed his arms thoughtfully. "And 'tis why the Genji armor doth respond to thee."

"Right."

"And how you were able to master Runic fully," Locke figured.

"Unexpectedly, but yes."

"And…why you had to bear the Ragnarok…" Terra finished in whisper.

"Call it a family heirloom," Celes affirmed dryly.

"You've been carrying this burden alone for so long…" Setzer mused.

Relm tilted her head. "No wonder you've been cranky."

"It was my choice, Relm." The Rune Knight briefly met Locke's gaze. "All of this is my choice."

The thief shuddered at the subtle reference, but he allowed the feeling to pass without much thought. A silence descended over the group. In spite of everything, it was a comfortable hush, filled with the warriors wordlessly reflecting on new revelations, recent events, and their whole lives.

Celes suddenly perked up. "662174!" At the confused looks the others were giving her, she grinned sheepishly. "The…override code for Guardian."

Locke stared at the blonde, mouth hanging open in disbelief before he finally threw his hands up. "Figures…"

Despite feeling the strength flow back into her, she allowed Locke and Terra to help her stand. Once on her feet, Celes sheathed the Ragnarok, then glanced around, looking confused.

"What is it?" Terra asked, picking up the Atma Weapon that lay where Kefka once stood, as well as the Rune Blade.

"Do you notice anything…different?"

Terra shook her head. "No."

Celes slowly met Terra's gaze as she took her sword back. "Do you see anything…wrong…with that?"

Terra considered that for a moment. Nothing seemed wrong at all. She didn't feel any different than… The realization of Celes' anxiety suddenly dawned on her.

"You don't think…?" Terra trailed off.

Celes cupped her hand, muttered a couple words, and watched ice form in her palm. Terra mimicked the move, and soon a small flame sprung up from her hand.

"What does that mean?" the half Esper asked, though she could guess the answer.

Celes looked to the edge of the tower. "Kefka's still alive."

_Author's note: Mwa ha ha. You didn't think that was the last of Kefka…did you? Two little side-notes: the knighting scene with Genji was adapted from the movie _Kingdom of Heaven_, and Cerberus is the three-headed watchdog of the underworld. Chapter 28's teaser:_

_Celes desperately trying to halt Kefka's swords. "Terra! Get them out!"_

_Celes holding the Ragnarok. "I had no desire to wield this infernal blade." _

_A dark ripple washing over Celes. "But you leave me no choice."_

_Strago lowering his head. "Goddesses help her…"_


	28. Furious Angels

_Disclaimer: Don't own it._

_Okay, we've now arrived at what the entire story, including _Sins of the Past_, has been leading up to: the big spectacular finish that's not really the end. Later in the chapter, Ramuh makes a reference to a line spoken in _Sins, _chapter 8. That line is from the movie _Alexander

_One more to go after this!  
_

Chapter Twenty-eight: Furious Angels

"Kefka's still alive."

Everyone looked at Celes in alarm, not sure if they heard her correctly. Cautiously, Celes walked over to the edge and peered over into the darkness.

"Anything?" Locke called anxiously.

Celes turned briefly to face her friends. "I don't see anything, no."

She returned her gaze to the edge of the tower. Without warning, a winged figure shot up from the darkness below, ramming into Celes and knocking her flat onto her back. The now larger and grossly disfigured demon that was Kefka leapt onto the fallen warrior, cleaving his two massive swords down upon her. Celes quickly drew her Rune Blade, narrowly shielding her throat. The madman pushed downward with overwhelming might, forcing Celes' own blade closer towards her neck.

"I can't be defeated!" he growled, his gold eyes glowing with hatred.

"Terra!" Celes cried, trying desperately to halt Kefka's swords. "Get them out!"

She summoned all her strength and shoved the raging deity back, throwing a fierce right-hook with the hilt of her Rune blade, making him stumbled further away. Celes rolled to her feet, seeing Terra and the others drawing their weapons.

"Just go!" she yelled as the bestial demigod lumbered towards her, hoofed feet stomping heavily on the stone ground. "I'll finish it!"

Celes ducked and weaved under Kefka's swords as he arced them out in powerful swipes, demolishing several rock formations and letting out ear-piercing shrieks. Missing her yet again, Kefka thrashed Celes in the face with a large wing and followed with a slash at her torso with one sword. She narrowly escaped his sword as she leapt backwards, landing hard on her back.

Kefka immediately cleaved his blades down, and Celes barely managed to roll out of the way. Almost frantically, he struck down again, practically standing on top of her, but she rolled back the other way. She then thrust the hilt of her sword up, striking Kefka in the nose and knocking him back. She flipped to her feet once again and called to the others.

"Get out of here!"

She failed to notice Kefka rising behind her, facing away. Celes turned just as Locke shouted out a warning, but at the same time, Kefka lashed out with one wing, catching her square in the chest. Her sword was knocked from her hand, and with a rough landing, she skidded to a halt several yards away.

"The Rune Blade!" Terra called, watching in horror as the sword slid over the edge of the precipice.

Celes stood and stared after her weapon. A look of dread overshadowed her face as she realized what she must do.

Terra realized it as well. "No…" she whispered. "Celes, no…"

Slowly the knight reached up and back to grasp the hilt of the Ragnarok. Smoothly, calmly, she slid the dark sword out of its sheath, letting it fall to rest at her side.

_You were born the Angel of Death…_

"I had no desire to wield this infernal blade," Celes muttered, her eyes closed.

…_You will know it before the end._

Putting aside all doubt, she called upon the dark power of the sword. The others looked on fearfully as the ebony blade suddenly began pulsating with a crimson glow, a sinister black mist forming in the air around it as it awoke from its slumber. The effect was immediate: a charcoal shadow seeped down through golden tresses, ice-blue pools darkened to orbs of volcanic glass, pale lips took on a darker and poisoned hue, and heavy Genji Armor changed mystically to supple black leather adorned by silver mesh, metal studs, and sculpted leather snakes.

Slowly turning towards the demonic horned jester, Celes raised the blade until it was level with her shoulder, pointing it menacingly at him. Strands of jet black hair whipped loosely about her face.

"But you leave me no choice," she growled, her voice in a lower octave than normal.

"And she said she didn't do black leather," Locke murmured.

"So now we see it!" Kefka practically shrieked with a grand sweeping of his arms and an oddly low rumbling voice. "Now we see your true self! You cannot deny the darkness within you, Celes; the Ragnarok does not lie!"

"I never denied it," she hissed.

"You cannot possibly wield the Sword of the Damned. It would destroy you. But go on, Celes," he taunted, a smug grin creasing his already deformed features. "Test your fate. If you do not die by my hand, then your soul will be crushed by a power you could not possibly comprehend."

In what appeared to be defiance, Celes spun the Ragnarok several times, ending with it still held in front of her, but now parallel to her shoulders. A second blade abruptly sprung from the hilt, opposite the first, with the same black mist surrounding its crimson glow.

Kefka was at first speechless as he beheld the now double-bladed Ragnarok, truly the ultimate weapon. Celes spun the swallow expertly before again holding it at rest beside her. She sensed his fear of the blade and allowed herself a small smirk before addressing her friends, not taking her eyes off her rival.

"Leave. Now."

It was not a plea as before; it was an order, spoken in deadly calm. The air took on a dangerous aura, and Terra knew she had no choice but to comply.

The green-haired mage turned to her friends. "Come on, we have to get out of here."

"No!" Locke yelled. "I'm not leaving her!"

While the Returners quarreled, Kefka glanced at them and threw an evil grin at Celes. He abruptly spun with his swords extended to one side, aiming straight for Terra. Celes, was quick to react, though, spinning with her swallow also extended to meet his blades.

Terra turned just as the Ragnarok locked with the demonic swords less than a foot from her throat. Sparks flew at the collision, and the young woman looked absolutely terrified from the near fatal blow.

"You can't do any more good here. Just go," Celes muttered through clenched teeth.

Locke began to protest. "But--"

"I'll be right behind you," the dark warrior insisted.

Dark ominous clouds rolled in and the ground rumbled beneath them as geysers of scorching steam erupted from cracks in the rock. Lightning streaked the sky, and Terra came to recognize it was no longer a battle any of the Returners could fight. Good versus evil had been corrupted into a dark conflict beyond their capacity and understanding. Unable to protest further, the half Esper urged the others to follow and hurriedly led them away from the terrace.

As they left, Kefka addressed Celes. "You will never leave this tower alive."

Celes returned his gaze with a cold stare. "But neither will you."

((ooo))

Two entities waged an epic battle that would one day be called a duel of the fates. One fought to free the world, the other to destroy it. One wielded a dark power manifested through a sword damned by the gods. The other had under his control all the might of the three Goddesses, creators of the very world of magic.

As the two circled each other, Celes' pendant took on a strong steady glow. She gauged that Kefka's demon form was sluggish in his movements, and she intended on exploiting it to the fullest.

Celes spun the double-bladed Ragnarok to her left and slashed back across to the right. Twirling the swallow first counterclockwise on her left, then clockwise on her right, the two blades struck Kefka on their ascending strokes. The warrior followed through by ducking under one end of the Ragnarok as it passed over her head from behind in a horizontal strike to the right.

Kefka finally retaliated by cleaving both his swords down, but Celes raised the Ragnarok to halt the descending blades. She ducked and pivoted out from under the demon, slicing through his abdomen. Kefka roared and slammed his arm back into Celes, sending her through the air towards a wall of rock. Twisting her body mid-air, the dark warrior alighted with her feet planted firmly on the rock and deftly pushed off in a back flip. As she descended behind Kefka, Celes raked the Ragnarok down his back before leaping out of his range.

Crouching down, Celes dashed forward to execute an attack kata, whipping the Ragnarok to the left across Kefka's chest. Her momentum carried her into a spinning jump kick to his jaw and another slash to the torso on a final rotation. The demon swung his blades angrily, but the warrior ducked and dodged and pivoted around behind him, delivering a sharp hack to his tail.

Once again, the warrior was batted away by a sweeping arm. The demonic jester began a charge at his foe, wildly spinning his swords. Seizing the opportunity, Celes tumbled forward into the butterfly attack she had mastered so many years ago, spinning into a handless horizontal cartwheel in a trio of rotations. Her body twisted impossibly just out of the path of Kefka's swords, and the two blade of the Ragnarok cut through the jester's defenses to land several heavy blows.

The two fought with such force that gravity came to have no meaning for them as their feet left the ground they stood on.

((ooo))

As Terra and the others fled, the sounds of clashing swords resonated off the metal and stone structure. Pausing for a moment to look back up at the summit of the tower, the half-breed saw flashes of light accompanying each crash of blades. When she felt Sabin tugging on her arm, she turned to continue her escape, but not before noticing the two figures engaged in an aerial battle high above the terrace.

((ooo))

In realm beyond the reaches of humans, a circle of Espers joined in prayer. As one, they combined their spirits and channeled their strength unto the Angel of Death, just as they had done a millennium ago for Aegis during the battle with his father Genji.

((ooo))

High in the air, the battle raged on. With every strike, the darkness spread further, slowly consuming Celes as dark veins began to stand out on her face.

Circling each other in a wide radius and with increasing velocity, warrior and demon finally closed the distance and crashed into each other in a blinding flash of light. The air trembled in waves from the force of the impact before settling back to its natural state.

The demon whipped his tail forward and knocked the Ragnarok out of her hands. Swiftly kicking off his chest, Celes soared back and caught the swallow, rolling into an backwards somersault. The Ragnarok whistled through the air as the warrior righted herself, slicing up into her rival's torso.

Kefka retaliated with a quick slash to Celes' shoulder, a sharp kick to her stomach, and a headbutt to her nose. While she hung stunned and immobile, the jester rose high above her.

Celes' eyes widened when she saw Kefka drop out of the clouds, slamming into her at breakneck speed. The air hissed and whooshed past them as the jester drove the knight ever closer to the surface of the tower's summit.

((ooo))

Terra gasped when she saw the two entangled figures plummeting down out of the sky.

"Oh gods…"

The collision released a crack a thunder and a cloud of dust, and the mage whispered a prayer for her friend.

((ooo))

Kefka gazed down at the still form of his rival. It was a patient stare, one of an enduring predator stalking its prey. For the briefest of moments, however, the curtain of insanity lifted from his yellow eyes as he hoped that she wouldn't get up and force him to continue fighting her. After all, there was still a part of him—albeit buried under deep hatred—that even now admired the woman's tenacity.

Then, as quickly as it had come, the lucidity vanished. It was replaced by the intense anticipation that she _would_ get up so he could prolong the pleasurable task of annihilating her bit by bit.

The minutes ticked by, and she didn't move. A shadow of worry passed over his demonic face as he wondered if maybe he overdid it. Getting bored, the jester moved to the edge of the terrace. The fact that the Returners were fleeing didn't amuse him.

While Kefka's back was turned, the dark warrior finally stirred.

((ooo))

Celes didn't make a sound as she crawled in agonizing pain out of the crater Kefka had created. She saw that the jester was facing away from her, watching in frustration as the Returners inched ever closer to a point of escape from the tower.

She lowered her head.

Though the Ragnarok was mighty in its darkness, she knew it would take more than the power she possessed to fell Kefka. She had known from the very beginning what he said was true; she would fall by the sword's evil, if not in life, then in death through Holy Judgment. It was inevitable. Darkness cannot fight evil and win. Celes knew this. And she was ready to accept the consequences.

_What defines us is what we choose to do _next.

Staggering to her feet and drawing the hellgod's attention, Celes withdrew a shard of magicite from a pouch on her belt. The stone was different from the others. It was a garnet encased by diamond, shining with the purest white light. Kefka recoiled as if physically afflicted by the mystical glow.

"I call upon thee, Alexander, whose Holy Light judges all."

((ooo))

The ring of Espers bowed their heads as the Holy One was summoned.

"She is weakened," Ifrit noted doubtingly.

"But so is he," Ramuh countered. "The Fates had foretold that no man or woman can be too powerful without disaster befalling. It is as it was meant to be."

The circle broke, and Shiva turned from her brethren before any of them could see the watery droplet rolling down her face. Halfway down her cheek, the tear froze.

"We are free," the ice goddess whispered.

((ooo))

As the last Returner was pulled up onto the deck of the _Falcon_, Locke persisted in his vehement objection to leaving Celes.

"Locke, for the last time, I'm not happy about leaving her either," Terra reminded irately. "But this is just something she has to do..._without_ our help."

"Look," Setzer interceded, trying to ease the tension, "we can wait for her, but I have this nasty feeling that this tower won't hold up much longer. If things start to get dicey, I'm getting us out of here."

The argument faded into the background as a new, yet familiar voice filled Terra's mind.

"_Terra."_

"_Father?"_ the girl answered.

"_My child, you and your friends must leave immediately,"_ the Esper warned.

"_Why?"_

At that precise moment, a thunderous tremor, seemingly from the base of the immense structure, shook the whole tower. For a long moment, the edifice quivered like a leave in the wind. Various yelps of surprised arose from the Returners.

"_What's happening, Father?" _Terra asked fearfully.

"_Remember how you were warned never to summon the Holy Alexander?"_

"_Yes… Oh no."_

Maduin mumbled his agreement. "_Your friend has just summoned Him. I do not believe her ignorant of the consequences. On the contrary, I believe she is quite conscious of them. This is what I fear."_

"_What's going to happen?" _she pressed, afraid of what her father meant.

"_Alexander has been called to judge the wicked, but He cannot, does not judge merely those who have sinned. He will judge all present at the site of His summoning, including His own summoner."_

"_And…Celes…"_

"_Those pure of heart have nothing to fear. But those dark of soul…will be torn asunder by His Holy Light. Terra…I fear for your friend. Long has Shiva watched her and sensed the growing darkness within her. Though she fights for the greater good, she wields the Sword of the Damned, the evilest of all blades. "_

"_Gods…"_

A second rumble shook the tower, followed by another a few seconds later, then another, then another, as if some gargantuan creation was clomping its way across the ground below. Each time, the thunderous footfall grew louder, closer. To Terra, is sounded as though huge oak trees were being heaved up and dropped back down. She vaguely heard the others' exclamations.

"_My child, you must flee, for He cometh. This very tower is a monument to evil and will be obliterated from the face of your world. I suggest you not be on it."_

"_But Celes—"_

"_She has made her choice,"_ Maduin said harshly._ "Her fate is in His hands, now."_

As Terra felt the connection with her father fade, the voice of another echoed in her mind.

_It ends here, one way or another._

"Son of a b—"

Terra was surprised to realize she had uttered the curse out loud, finding the others looking curiously at her, momentarily forgetting the quaking of the tower. She drew a deep breath, dreading the next words to come out of her mouth.

"Setzer…take off. Now."

"What? Why?" the gambler wondered, hearing the urgency in Terra's voice.

The ground rumbled and the metal and stone structure shook. What sounded like a machine as big as the tower gearing up reached their ears. The group could now see something begin to loom up from the hazy depths below, indeed the same enormity as the evil labyrinth, if not larger.

Terra's answer was simple. "That's why."

"What the hell is that?" Edgar cried.

"Alexander."

They all turned their gazes to the old Thamasan who had spoken. Strago, in turn, looked directly at Terra.

"She summoned Alexander."

It as more of a statement than a question. Terra could only nod. Strago closed his eyes and lowered his head.

The sage mumbled inaudibly, "Goddesses help her…"

((ooo))

At hearing the incantation, a spasm of pure, unadulterated fear washed over Kefka's face. The ground trembled with each footfall of the mammoth Esper. Out of the shadowy depths sprang towards the heavens a colossal beam of light. The outline of a machine-like figure cut through the beacon, and the screeching of thousands of moving parts and gears and billowing steam rolled through the still air.

Rays of sunlight streaked through the black clouds as the giant continued to rise past the warriors' heads, reaching into the sky with an impossible enormity. The hull of the great beast was indeed made of a greenish-gray metallic plating, an impenetrable armor trimmed in gold and highlighted by streaks of emerald, sapphire, and scarlet. Ornately shaped spikes rose from what could be discerned as the head and shoulders, all accented by patterns of brilliant colors. The single yellow eye, peering through a narrow slit in the dome-shaped head and encircled by two tiers of colorful shielding, focused on the two beings before it.

Celes tore her eyes away and looked at her rival, who stood entranced by the gargantuan summon.

"I'll see you in Hell, Kefka."

The demigod glanced at her for a moment, hatred burning in his golden eyes. He lowered his head and closed his eyes, and light rippled over his flesh, changing his form once again. All disfigurements vanished, replaced by a divine, yet humanoid form.

"I do not fear this holy beast," he claimed. He raised his head and opened his now white eyes, spreading his six wings and rising into the air. "I am a god. I will destroy Judgment."

The eye of Alexander lifted from Celes to follow the deity as he rose up to meet the towering mammoth. Celes looked down at the Ragnarok in her hand, then up at the titan she summoned, the fear of her actions now taking hold.

"Gods have mercy…"

As Kefka drew near, the two tiers guarding Alexander's head lowered. The yellow orb of His eye turned white-hot, emitting a piercingly shrill hiss as the glow grew ever-more intense. The glow formed into a focused photon of light, suddenly discharging straight at the demon.

The beam struck Kefka and passed through him. The true power of Alexander manifested itself in a colossal pillar of light, slicing through the tower, forcing both Kefka and Celes to look up into the sky to face the scorching white light of Judgment.

((ooo))

The Returners all peered anxiously over the railing of the _Falcon_ at the rapidly shrinking tower. They watched Alexander rise up, and Kefka with Him. The beam shot forth, lancing the deity through the chest. And all of them bore witness to the divine power of Alexander as His Light of Judgment pierced the Tower of Evil.

There was a moment of dead silence before the white column erupted in a devastating flash. Clouds of dust and fire billowed into the sky in a perfect hemisphere as the supernova ripped across the land. The _Falcon_, riding the very edge of it, barely escaped its fury. The aircraft jerked back and forth with the force, throwing everyone but Setzer to the deck.

A series of earthquakes rattled the continent for miles across in all directions. Dust filled the sky, and debris rained down upon the land. Finally, the mushroom cloud parted and rolled back the permanent haze, and for the first time in over a year, blue sky peeked out and true rays of the sun bathed the land.

The flash of the explosion was seen as far away as Thamasa and Narshe, the blast heard as far as Jidoor and Mobliz, and the repercussions were felt across the globe.

Effects other than from the explosion, however, were felt closer to home. Shortly after the blast, the magicite hanging around the Returners' necks shattered, and Terra collapsed to the deck of the _Falcon_, clutching her chest and screaming in agony.

"Terra!" Edgar cried as he dropped to his knees beside her. "Setzer! Get us to Figaro!"

The king pulled the half-Esper up against his chest as he sat on the deck of the airship. The others were already surrounding the two, fearing for their friend and growing more distressed with every cry of pain. Edgar placed his hand over Terra's on her chest.

"Ter, it's going to be alright."

"It hurts," she wailed. "It feels like I'm being torn apart."

"I know, sweetie, I know," Edgar said, unusually tender. He looked up at the others. "Does anyone have a potion?"

Terra shook her head. "Don't bother. It won't help."

"Ter—"

"No," she said more firmly, silencing the king. She whimpered in pain and tears spilled from her emerald eyes. "I don't want to die…"

"It's going to be ok, Terra. You're going to be fine."

His voice cracked with an emotion few had heard before as he fought back his own tears, holding her tighter. Terra's breathing became more labored as blood trickled from her pale lips.

"Hold on, Terra," he whispered.

The people of Figaro were expecting the joyous return of their leader, a return which would signal the start of the largest celebration in history. What they got was their tear-stricken king carrying the unconscious form of the young woman who had been looked to as the world's Angel of Hope.


	29. Finale: Fallen Angels

_Disclaimer: Once again the end is nigh, tears have been shed, Squaresoft shareholders have been murdered in their sleep, but alas, I still do not own any rights to Final Fantasy. _

_Thank you everyone so much for reading. I hope I gave you all a different perspective of Celes and that it evoked some emotions in you as you read. I promise you, though, this won't be the end. There are many ideas floating around in my head, waiting to be written. For now, sit back and enjoy the finale of my pride and joy._

_**Following the Finale, I've decided to add an epilogue. It's a bit superfluous, but I like the imagery.**_

Finale: Fallen Angels

Figaro went not into celebration, but into mourning. Terra was dying. Shadow and Gogo were missing. And no one dared imagine Celes' fate.

Immediately after stopping in Figaro, Setzer returned to the Tower Ruins with a crew of volunteers to search for their fallen comrade, while his friends waited and wondered.

Nearly three days had passed, and hour by hour, Terra's strength waned. She lay unconscious, so still and pale. Her normally milky skin had become ashen and her once vibrant jade hair a now pallid and sickly hue. One could easily think her dead if not for the soft wheezing of her shallow breaths.

In the early morning hours of that third day, the Returners stood scattered throughout the castle infirmary, each secluded to his or her unspoken territory. Edgar remained faithfully seated at Terra's side, keeping gentle hold of her limp hand. Locke sat across from the king, his vacant stare never leaving the young woman's face. Sabin paced restlessly at the foot of the cot, his concerned gaze alternating between his companions and the rising sun.

Cyan stood vigilantly at the window, though whether to watch for Setzer's return or to avoid the sight of the dying woman, no one could discern. Mog was perched on one of the empty cots, staring at the stone floor, while Umaro stood mutely next to the moogle. Strago lay resting on a cot opposite Terra's, weakened from the disappearance of his magic. Gau sat cross-legged on a small table close to Cyan, silently watching everyone else.

Relm had retreated to the corner farthest away from her companions. Sitting on the cold stone against the wall, her knees drawn loosely up to her chest, the girl stared numbly into space. The only movement she made was to absently scratch Interceptor's ears or occasionally rub her temples when another migraine hit. The death of magic left her with waves of blinding headaches to accompany her mounting grief. Unlike the others, she already knew the truth. She could feel it, and the pain was like losing her mother all over again.

((ooo))

Setzer looked up into the sky, and the cerulean heavens stared down at him. The rising sun of the third day smiled on, oblivious to the gambler's dread. As each day ended, hoped faded into the world of night.

He swept his gaze across the field of rubble. The Rune Blade. That's all Setzer and his team had found. Unbroken, unbent, not even a scratch to tell of its frightful plunge into the Tower Ruins. The runes on the steel shaft retained an enigmatic glow, as if holding some secret just out of their reach.

An echoing cry sounded above him, and Setzer returned his gaze to the sky. Squinting against the unfamiliar brightness of the sun, the gambler managed to discern the silhouette of an eagle soaring overhead.

((ooo))

The Returners stirred as Terra's eyes blinked open. Emerald orbs slowly came into focus and alighted on Edgar's relieved expression.

"Hey there," he greeted gently.

Her voice was hoarse and weak as she seemed to struggle with a reply. "Hey. Is it over?"

Edgar nodded. "Yeah. It's over." The king gestured towards the window. "Look, Ter. Blue sky."

The woman turned her gaze to the window and felt the warmth of the sun on her face. A faint smile graced her lips.

((ooo))

**VOICEOVER (Edgar): "How are you feeling?"**

Setzer wandered aimlessly amongst the ruins, climbing over concrete boulders and absently kicking pebbles. Every once in a while, the gambler poked around the tower remains, overturning slabs of rock and plates of iron. He was rewarded by Chance when the hilt of a sword became visible, protruding conspicuously out of the wreckage.

**VOICEOVER (Terra): "…I'm dying."**

The gambler tugged the sword free. It was not one he recognized immediately, but the gleaming white blade looked somehow familiar.

"Search the area," he ordered the excavation team.

**VOICEOVER (Edgar): "You're not going to die."**

Setzer stared at the opalescent blade. Images of a blonde wielding a black sword came to mind, and he realized it was the Ragnarok. The damned weapon had been released of his curse and made sacred again by Alexander's Grace.

**VOICEOVER (Terra): "I…I can see them…"**

"Sir?" one of the men called. "I think we found something."

**VOICEOVER (Edgar): "Who? Who can you see?"**

More debris was swept aside, revealing familiar hair turned back to its normal blonde hue. Two men took hold under the body's arms and pulled it free of the rubble.

**VOICEOVER (Terra): "Leo…and……….Celes."**

As the two men carried her lifeless form out of the ruins, Setzer caught sight of that angelic face, battered and stained with dried blood. He dropped to one knee and held his head in his hand, unable to contain his tears.

**VOICEOVER (Terra): "They're waiting for me." **

((ooo))

"No…no, Terra, don't go to them…!"

Her eyes grew vacant as she stared into nothing. A tear slid from her eye as she whispered, "Bye…"

"Terra!" No response. "TERRA!"

Edgar's voice was fading fast and Terra found herself surrounded by light. The figures of her fallen friends were the only break in the brightness. With her last breath escaping her lips, her eyes closed, and her hand relaxed in Edgar's.

The king's screams went silent to the others' ears as time seemed to slow for the warriors. They witnessed the scene in flashes as if it was a skipping record. They watched a distressed Locke hold Edgar back as Sabin laid Terra flat on the floor and began attempting resuscitation.

For twenty minutes the martial artist pumped her chest and blew air into her lungs. When it was clear it wasn't working, Sabin sat back and held his head with his hands. Relm's sobs could now be heard as the sounds of the world gradually rolled back to their senses.

Hours passed. No one said a word. Whether from shock or grief or anger, it wasn't clear, but it seemed silence was the only thing the Returners were capable of. Eventually, the sound of footsteps approached, and they all looked up to see Setzer walk into the throne room. The pilot immediately noticed the somber expressions on his friends' faces.

"What's with the gloom?" he asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

Edgar's bottom lip trembled. "Terra…she…"

"Oh gods…" Setzer lowered his head and rubbed his eyes with one hand. "Not now…"

"Setzer, what is it?"

The gambler grimly met the king's gaze through strands of silver hair that fell over his face. Then, with a look of regret, he glanced over his shoulder. Two men from the search team trod slowly into the hall, bearing the fallen knight, once again clad in the armor of Genji, on a stretcher. The Rune Blade lay on her chest with her hands folded atop the hilt, and the Ragnarok rested beside her. The icy pendant around her neck no longer glowed.

"No…" Locke whispered.

In horror, the thief covered his mouth with his hand, but not before a sob escaped. Falling to his knees next to the stretcher, Locke buried his face in Celes' lifeless hand and cried.

((ooo))

At dusk, the bodies of Terra and Celes were carried through the halls of Figaro and into the desert where the funeral pyres awaited. Two columns of Figaro's Royal Guard led the chocobo-drawn carriage, while Edgar and Sabin trailed solemnly behind with the rest of the Returners. By the thousands, the people of the desert kingdom, as well as citizens from all across the world, gathered along the sides of the procession, each holding a lighted candle in reverence for the two fallen angels.

The bodies were placed on the altars, and the fires were lit. As the pyres were devoured by flames, a half circle of Thamasan women began to sing a ritual chant for their departed Magi sisters. With a heavy heart, Relm joined in the hymn, her eyes empty and her expression vacant. The innocent voice bearing the weight of grief was a razor to the souls of her comrades.

The fires burned long into the night. One by one, the Returners turned from the pyres, walking slowly back to the castle. Each left until only a solitary person remained. Locke stood on, staring blankly into the flames as though his very spirit had been consumed by them.

Two women.

Two promises.

Two pyres burning to ashes.

And so two tears rolled down his face. He had failed.

((ooo))

It felt too soon for the warriors to celebrate, but the people of the world could not be denied. With Edgar's consent, the festivities to celebrate the end of the war began. For the most part, spirits seemed to lift as the Returners rejoiced. Edgar, Sabin, and Setzer were joking around again while the king and gambler periodically hit on the young women present. Mog danced for hours, finally putting a smile on Relm's face. Umaro watched the moogle, at one point trying a jig of his own. Cyan and Strago chatted about the old days and laughed heartily as Gau chased Interceptor. Locke, however, remained apart from the others, off in his own world as he sipped his champagne.

Eventually, the thief retreated to Figaro's memorial hall, unable to stand the smiling faces any longer. Once there, he walked along the outer wall, sparing fleeting glances at the swords and shields and suits of armor from kings past. He stopped when he reached a particular display: the armor of Genji, still without a single mark to betray its wear. Nearby, two monuments of white granite stood. The one marked Terra Branford held the Atma Weapon in its stony grasp. In the other, the Rune Blade and Ragnarok lay embedded.

He traced the letters of the second name with his fingertips. Celes Chere.

"They were both incredible, weren't they?" a voice wondered.

Locke didn't look away from the shrine. "Yes, they were. Too bad it was in vain."

Sabin crossed his arms thoughtfully. "In vain?"

"For however wonderful and strong they were, they couldn't save themselves. No one could…"

"Sacrifice isn't vain. It's virtuous." The prince could tell the thief wasn't convinced. "Celes _did_ save herself, Locke."

"How?"

"You see the Ragnarok there? It's pure, freed from the evil it housed for centuries."

"So?"

"I believe in my heart that Celes found that same salvation, that she, too, was freed from all the darkness in her. She saved us all, so don't begrudge her for making a choice."

The thief sighed. "Maybe I'm meant to be miserable."

"I think you're miserable only if you choose to be." The prince put his hand on the other man's shoulder. "You'll always miss her, Locke, but at some point, you just have to let go."

Locke was silent as Sabin withdrew from the chamber. The thief took one last look at the monument, the glowing Rune Blade and the pure shining Ragnarok shedding an eerie light upon the etchings in the white stone. He felt a cold presence radiating from the monument, and somehow, he smiled.

_Between the idea  
And the reality  
Between the motion  
And the act  
Falls the Shadow_

_Between the conception  
And the creation  
Between the emotion  
And the response  
Falls the Shadow_

_Between the desire  
And the spasm  
Between the potency  
And the existence  
Between the essence  
And the descent  
Falls the Shadow_

_And so passes the descent of Rune  
Not with a whimper_


	30. Epilogue

_Disclaimer: In the span of the whole minute between posting the finale and posting this, I miraculously won complete ownership of Squaresoft… not._

_The Finale and Epilogue were posted at the same time, so if you jumped right to this chapter, don't forget to read chapter 29 first! The idea for this came while listening to "Into the West" by Annie Lennox, used in _Lord of the Rings: Return of the King_. Admittedly, the time frame between the last chapter and the events in this epilogue is questionable._

Epilogue

"Come on! Hurry up!"

The Returners quickened their pace to try to keep up with Relm, but the child had an easier time navigating the thick overgrowth, fallen logs, and low-hanging branches of the forest. At Strago's suggestion, the gang had rushed to Phantom Forest for the chance to see their comrades one last time.

Through the maze of trees, they could see the mystic lake that passing spirits had to cross, and the narrow path finally opened into the clearing. The water and the air itself had an unearthly glimmer, and the opposite shore was bathed in a white glow.

Sabin's eyes alighted on a familiar figure. "Guys…"

The others looked to where the prince pointed. Standing at the water's edge, surrounded by an ethereal radiance, a woman with green hair stared calmly across the lake's mirrored surface.

"Terra…"

As if hearing Edgar's whisper, the woman lifted her head and turned. Her face broke into a bright smile at seeing her friends, and she waved to them happily. The warriors chuckled fondly at the child-like quality of the action, then fell into silent awe as a new form came into view, putting her hand on Terra's shoulder. Locke's breath caught in his throat. As the mage looked up at the blonde, Celes turned her gaze to the Returners and raised a hand in greeting.

Celes then caught Terra's eye and nodded towards the lake. The green-haired woman followed the blonde's gesture and saw the ferryman arrive to carry them across. Beyond the boat, on the opposite shore, yet another familiar form stood waiting. Terra waved emphatically, nearly jumping up and down in glee. Leo returned the gesture, and the young woman darted over to the ferry. With a final small wave to the others, Celes slowly turned to follow.

Locke bit his lip, then whispered his goodbye. "I love you."

Celes paused mid-stride and turned her head slightly towards him. A soft smile graced her face as she closed her eyes and bowed her head.

_I know._

The gentle echo in the thief's mind managed to soothe his grief as the woman stepped onto the awaiting boat. The ferryman dug his pole into the lake floor and pushed off from shore. As the two women were carried across the lake, several pairs of eyes brimmed with tears.

Relm sniffed and looked up at her grandfather. "We shouldn't be sad…right?"

"It's all right to be sad, but we shouldn't grieve." The old man watched the ferry for a moment before continuing. "They are moving on to a higher realm, and we will see them again someday."

As soon as the ferry just barely touched land, Terra jumped off and threw her arms around Leo, nearly knocking him over. The small woman hugged her friend fiercely, and when she broke from him, she mirrored his cheerful grin. When the mage glanced into the realm beyond, Leo gave her an encouraging nod.

His smile turned softer as he watched the other woman debark from the ferry. Celes touched an affectionate palm to Leo's cheek when she passed by, letting her fingers trail along his jawline. Giving a final wave to the Returners, Leo turned to follow Celes, placing a reassuring hand on the small of her back.

Abruptly, the blonde stopped and looked over her shoulder for one last glimpse, and her eyes met Locke's. After a moment, Celes quirked a tiny smile and turned into the light.

Fin.


End file.
